LIFE  AT 
LAUREL   TOWN 

IN 
ANGLO-SAXON   KANSAS 

KATE      STEPHENS 


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CALIFORNIA 

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by 

His  Son  and  Daughter 


LIFE  ON  A  FAKM  NEAR 
LAUREL  TOWN 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

The  Greek  Spirit 

Workfellowa  in  Social  Progression 

American  Thumb- Print* 

A  Woman's  Heart 

The  Mastering  of  Mexico 

Stories  from  Old  Chronicle* 

And  other  books 


LIFE  AT 
LAUREL  TOWN 

IN 

ANGLO-SAXON  KANSAS 


BY 

KATE  STEPHENS 

Sometime  Profenor  of  Greek  in  the  Univertity  of  Kancaa 


Our  leading  men  are  not  oi  much  account,  and  never  have 
been,  bat  the  average  ol  the  people  it  immense. 

Walt  Whitman. 

Be  (olki  (peuple).    Your  only,  your  real  duty,  in  to 
keep  democratic  in  your  heart. 

George  Sand. 


c,  ftanjiatf 
ALUMNI  ASSOCIATION 
OF  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  KANSAS 
1920 


Copyright,  1920 
BY  KATE  STEPHENS 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published,  1920. 
Limited,  large-paper  edition. 


LIFE  ON  A  FARM  NEAR 
LAUREL  TOWN 


DIONYSUS  IN  KANSAS 

Make  glad! 

The  Lord  of  Growth  has  come; 

The  tun  has  half  his  northward  journey  done. 

And  in  deep-juried  roots  moves  the  Spirit ! 

On  the  dark-earthed  fields 
Fires  of  last  year's  husks  the  farmer  kindles—' 
Sacrifices  to  the  Lord  of  Growth; 
Smoke  rises  to  the  bluer  heavens; 

While  hawk  and  solemn  crow  cut  with  long  wing  the  spark- 
ling air. 

And  little  "birds  do  sing,  "Rejoice! 
Rejoice!  the  Springing  Life  is  here!" 

Mounting  sap  now  brightens  trunk  of  tree  and  vine; 
And  every  tip-most  twig  swells  out  its  leaf-buds. 

The  peach  puts  forth  her  titter-tinted  pink; 
Redbud  empurples  far  each  wooded  stretch; 
And,  by  the  magic  of  the  Lord  of  Spring, 
Stand  orchards,  very  ghosts  of  winter  snows,  white-cloaked 
in  blossom. 

Wheat,  0  sisters,  greens  in  our  rolling  glebe! 
And  corn,  O  brothers,  springs  from  its  golden  seed! 

For  Sun-Warmth,  and  Wind-Strength,  and  Praise-God-Rain 

Are  abroad  in  our  land; 

Three  builders  of  worlds,  with  the  Spirit, 

Go  forth  hand  in  hand. 

Make  glad! 

The  Lord  of  Growth  has  come; 

The  sun  has  near  his  northward  Journey  run, 

in  deep-buried  roots  moves  Life-Ever-Living! 


LIFE  ON  A  FARM  NEAR  LATJEEL  TOWN 


From  heights  of  Kansas  City  the  lands  rolling 
westward  gleamed  like  a  Land  of  Beulah  that 
spring  my  Father  first  saw  Kansas.  Civil  War 
had  ended.  Peace  had  come. 

And  a  Kansas  spring  was  burgeoning — the 
verdure  of  April,  indescribably  luscious  May 
days,  June  air  fragrant  with  wild  grape  blos- 
soms and  musical  with  stir  of  leaves.  As  the 
traveler  watched  and  waited  on  Kansas  City 
bluffs,  and  later  turned  his  horse's  head  towards 
Paola  and  Laurel  Town,  the  soil's  promise  of 
overmastering  harvests  delighted  him. 

A  certain  melancholy  which  broods  over  the 
state,  greater  in  the  western  than  eastern  part,  a 
genius  loci,  induced,  perhaps,  by  the  seemingly 
unending  stretch  of  fertile  earth,  a  broad  sky 
shutting  down  like  an  inverted  bowl  and  sug- 
gesting the  impenetrability  of  heaven — some- 
times conveying  by  massing  of  clouds,  fierce 
winds  and  rains,  vaultings  of  lighftning 

3 


4:  LIFE   ON   A   FARM 

voices  of  thunder,  the  impression  that  demiurgic 
forces  are  about  to  unite  and  grind  to  nothing 
the  puny  works  of  man — this  reverse  of  the  lov- 
ing exuberance  of  Kansas  nature  affected  the 
traveler  slightly. 

Then,  too,  the  people  at  the  time  of  his  com- 
ing settled,  and  settling,  in  this  rich  environ- 
ment— a  people  for  the  most  part  of  the  blood 
of  Anglo-Saxon  state-makers,  a  democracy  sav- 
ing to  the  world  the  traditions  and  courage  of 
their  forefathers;  ranchers  and  lovers  of  live 
stock,  farmers  and  such  fosterers  of  growing 
grain  that,  like  the  Hebrew  Job  of  old,  they 
never  "let  thistles  grow  instead  of  wheat,  and 
cockle  instead  of  barley" ;  farmers  as  farms  were 
in  those  days;  not  seeking  to  specialize,  as  in 
this  of  ours,  but  growing  a  little  of  every  farm 
thing  for  their  families'  needs  and  comforts; 
having  their  own  orchards,  their  own  berry 
bushes,  their  own  vegetable  gardens,  their  own 
chickens,  pigs,  cows  and  even  sheep. 

Sometimes  these  people  were  children  of 
frontier  dwellers  for  generations,  cradled  in 
supplies  so  slender  that  they  had  developed  a 
godlike  energy,  an  amazing  adaptability,  and 
what  it  might  be  unjust  to  call  insensibility  to 
finer  shadings  and  yet  was  not  wholly  stoicism 
of  feeling. 


NEAR  LAUREL  TOWN  5 

Also  there  were  the  citizens — craft  folks,  pro- 
fessional folk,  gathered  in  the  community  of  tiny 
towns  where  no  man  owned  material  advantage 
over  his  neighbor,  and  therefore  was  not  apt  to 
assume  to  himself  airs  of  superiority. 

This  people,  identical  in  ethics  and  language, 
identical  in  political  ends,  my  Father  thought 
as  free  a  democracy  as  the  world  had  ever  seen, 
alert  of  intellect,  restless  in  experiment, 
inebriate  of  optimism,  self-confident  to  an  aston- 
ishing degree,  earnest  in  our  American  faith  in 
education  and  local  self-government;  and  loyal 
to  the  ideas  of  our  f  oreparents  who  looked  upon 
government  as  a  form  to  which  they,  exercising 
their  right  to  life,  liberty  and  the  pursuit  of 
happiness,  contributed  support  and  delegated 
their  authority,  not  a  system  from  which  they 
might  draw  maintenance  and  patronage. 

Parasitic  peoples,  those  not  led  by  spiritual 
vigor  and  spiritual  truth — people  who  go  where 
wealth  is  merely  because  wealth  is  there,  fervent 
solely  for  themselves,  ignorant  of  the  institu- 
tions of  our  country,  or  disregardful  of  their 
meaning  in  any  other  significance  than  affording 
them  fe.  protected  dwelling  place  and  opportunity 
to  make  money;  and  also  parasitic  institutions 
which  establish  themselves  and  fatten  on  present 
human  labor  and  accumulations  of  past  labors 


6  LIFE   ON   A   FARM 

— in  those  days,  in  Kansas,  they  were  too  few  to 
count. 

These  two  makers  of  environment,  the  mag- 
nificence of  nature  and  the  spirit  of  Anglo- 
Saxon  statemakers,  led  my  Father  to  cast  his 
lot  in  the  state  when  an  invalidism  settled  upon 
him  and  made  change  of  climate  needful. 

Years  before,  in  New  York,  he  was  a  lawyer 
with  a  lucrative  practice.  When  President 
Lincoln  sent  out  the  call  of  the  15th  of  April, 
1861,  for  seventy-five  thousand  volunteers,  how- 
ever, he  at  once  locked  his  office-doors  and  went 
enlisting  men  for  defense  of  the  Union. 

Not  many  days  later  his  recruits  assemhled 
in  the  main  street  of  the  snug,  little  village — 
it  was  a  bright,  spring  morning  and  wives  and 
children,  and  folks  from  the  neighboring  hills, 
were  there  to  see.  Drums  beat  attention,  two 
or  three  men  stepped  forward  and  presenting 
him  with  a  captain's  sword  buckled  it  round  his 
waist,  and  the  company  set  forth  for  war. 

"Marched  from  Martinsburg  [Virginia]  to 
Bunkerhill,"  he  wrote  in  his  diary,  under  July 
15th.  "Marched  to  Charlestown,"  July  17th. 
"Marched  to  Harper's  Ferry,"  July  20th. 
"Battle  of  Lovettsville,"  August  8th;  and  two 
days  later,  "Went  to  Baltimore  sick." 

When  able  to  travel  he  came  home  ' '  suif ering 


NBAB   LAUREL  TOWN  7 

from  fever,  neuralgia  and  general  prostration 
resulting  from  severe  service/'  the  army-sur- 
geon stated.  By  merit  of  home,  and  rest,  he  so 
far  recovered  as  to  resume  practice  of  law. 

But  after  a  couple  of  years  the  doctors  found 
him  invalided  by  war's  aftermath,  tuberculosis 
of  the  lungs.  They  gave  him  "two  years  to 
live"  (a  child  standing  by  overheard  their  sen- 
tence), and  sent  him  south  for  benefits  of  open- 
air  healing. 

The  south,  totally  disrupted,  proved  hostile 
to  his  family  traditions.  He  saw  he  must  seek 
an  environment  other,  in  spiritual  lines,  if  he 
were  once  more  to  have  wife  and  children  with 
him.  So,  urging  his  horse  northward,  delaying 
sometime  in  Missouri  because  of  its  attractive 
face,  but  there,  also,  finding  hatred  of  his  home 
and  people,  he  finally  came  to  Kansas  City,  and 
from  its  heights  looked  out  over  fat  lands  roll- 
ing westward. 

Country  life  Pater  had  always  loved.  Years 
before,  when  practising  law  in  New  York,  a  farm 
some  thirty  miles  from  his  office  delighted  him, 
and  to  its  pleasantnesses  he  would  often  go, 
spending  the  day  in  the  open,  laying  out  work 
for  its  men.  Besides  gratifying  his  taste  for 
close  touch  with  the  land's  beauty  and  for 
thought,  such  outings  increased  his  frail  body's 


8  LIFE   ON   A  FARM 

strength.  And  now,  when  need  of  spending  his 
days  out  of  doors  had  shut  him  off  from  his 
profession,  he  determined  to  be  a  farmer, 
theoretical  if  not  practical,  but  practical  as  far 
as  possible. 

The  land  he  chose  for  our  home,  summing 
about  two  hundred  and  thirty  acres,  lying  north- 
ward of  and  adjoining  Laurel  Town,  had  many 
features  unusual  to  a  Kansas  farm ;  for  instance, 
in  its  upland  and  lowland.  And  from  the  main- 
traveled  road  on  the  west  line,  to  the  Kansas 
river  and  skirting  willows  on  the  east,  it  held 
some  especially  lovely  spots. 

Wooded  ground  which  had  never  known  the 
plough  lay  on  its  southern  border,  along  a  little 
amber  stream  called  "brewery  brook,"  and  on 
the  north  a  like  band  of  primeval  forest 
stretched  from  highway  to  river.  Nature  had 
planted  the  woods  after  her  sweet  fashion  of 
making  her  garden,  and  in  the  shadow  of  the 
trees  wild  geranium  and  columbine  blossomed, 
and  wind-flowers  nodded,  and  purple  violets 
carpeted  the  ground  in  spring. 

The  most  striking  figure  of  the  south  woods 
was  a  black  walnut  standing  with  a  girth  of 
toward  twenty  feet — rising  in  masjesty  land 
aloofness  so  apart  from  its  brothers,  and  their 
shade,  that  the  sun  had  rounded  its  branches  to 


NEAB   LAUREL  TOWN  9 

an  almost  perfect  globe.  A  little  way  off  a 
ravine  intersecting  this  woodland  ran  north  and 
south,  and  a  sycamore,  laid  low  by  some  wind, 
had  spanned  the  gully.  Upon  the  sycamore's 
satiny  bark  we  walked  across  when  river-waters 
filled  the  ravine  in  time  of  flood — there,  too, 
warm  afternoons  in  spring,  when  frogs  were 
chorusing  and  water-bugs  skating,  I  found  a 
good  place  for  studying  Virgil. 

Such  little  localities  as  these  Pater  especially 
loved,  and,  as  winters  passed  and  springs 
neared,  he  spent  many  a  day  in  their  company, 
himself  gaining  vigor;  here  rescuing  from  de- 
formity some  young  tree  caught  by  freakish 
winds  and  pinned  under  a  weight,  there  slipping 
pruning  knife  at  a  root  he  knew  to  be  noxious. 

Than  the  coming  of  spring  in  Kansas  nothing 
can  be  more  beautiful.  It  is  day  after  day  of 
perfection.  Winds  do  blow  over  rolling  lands. 
Even  in  February,  as  if  conscious  of  a  mighty 
secret  they  purpose  later  to  reveal,  they  begin 
a  hollow  murmur,  and  dip  down  chimneys,  and 
slap  house-tops  and  loosen  cornices.  Not  all  days 
are  calm. 

Neither  are  all  days  warm.  Frosts  dart  from 
upper  airs. 

But  tree-trunks  brighten,  and  the  onward 
push  of  beauty  is  so  superb — color  in  sky  and 


10  LIFE   ON   A   FABM 

budding  things ;  the  very  soil  gleams  back  at  you 
— so  overwhelming  in  voice  of  lowing  calf  and 
whinnying  mare,  amorous  birds  and  wild,  sweet- 
scented  winds,  there  is  no  telling  in  words. 

All  leading  to  May— to  the  earth  inwrought 
with  violets,  flowering  star-grasses,  mandrake, 
yellow  blossoms  of  the  oxalis,  native  blue  phlox. 
And  above  this  carpet  from  the  Eternal's  loom, 
tree  and  shrub  leafed  in  rose-velvet  or  fresh 
green,  thrushes  fluting,  mourning  dove  lament- 
ing passion  to  mate,  and  the  meadow-lark 

"Scattering  his  loose  notes  in  the  waste  of  air." 

With  June  ahead!  EUpe-eared  wheat-fields 
shadowed  by  clouds  drifting  across  the  sky. 
Lakes  of  corn,  their  dark-green  blades  swishing 
drowsily,  like  little  waves  lapping  pebbly  shores, 
and  whispering  prophecies  of  September  ker- 
nels. Myriads  of  bees  booming  their  wares 
(just  as  brokers  do)  as  they  pass  from  clover- 
globe  to  purple  clover-globe  and  then  whirl  away 
to  hive  their  stores. 

Where,  round  a  fecund  earth,  can  you  find 
sight  more  enchanting! — a  heaven  of  sapphire 
blue  on-spurring  fruits  of  an  ambitious,  up-send- 
ing soil  and  their  message  for  the  furthering 
of  man;  standing  from  dawn  till  that  veiling 
hour  when  grey  sphinx-moth  and  ruby-throated 


NBAB  IATJEEL  TOWN  11 

humming-bird  search  their  supper  in  the  cup  of 
the  trumpet-flower. 

Those  closings  of  the  day,  at  times,  especially 
in  May  and  June,  forerun  by  rainbows,  we  often 
gathered,  like  a  group  of  Parsees,  to  watch  the 
sky's  tumbling,  tumultuary  vapors — billows 
crimson,  golden,  amethyst,  sea-green  and  soft 
greys  shading  to  black ;  or  a  gleaming  globe,  un- 
attended by  cloud  seraphim,  sinking  in  solitary 
splendor  behind  the  western  hills. 

"We  also  knew  early  mornings  in  summer  when 
the  sun  struck  the  river,  and  brightened  its 
waters  till  they  shone  out  behind  the  fringing 
willows  and  made  a  silver  ribbon  binding  the 
land.  And  in  depths  of  winter,  too,  when 
11  Phoebus  'gan  to  rise,"  we  watched  for  the  two 
misty  sun-dogs  who  would  now  and  then  start 
him  on  another  circuit  of  the  heavens. 

One  of  our  family  cults  was  finding  the  earl- 
iest dog-tooth  violet.  Days  in  February  we 
would  notice  winter  silences  giving  way  to  those 
mysterious  voices  which  bespeak  the  spring 
theophany  near;  and  then  we  would  slip  off 
without  others'  knowledge  to  turn  leaf -mould  in 
the  woods,  or  to  lift  fallen  boughs  from  warm 
bank-sides,  heckling  our  brains  to  recall  where 
we  had  noted  the  sturdiest  plants.  As  weeks 
went  on  our  hunt  grew  more  thorough,  and  some- 


12  LIFE   ON   A   FARM 

times  of  a  biting  morning,  we  plunged  out  of 
doors  to  see  if  the  plant  we  had  chosen  had  not, 
coaxed  by  warm  airs  of  the  day  before,  put  forth 
a  pale  bell,  nodding  now  in  spite  of  bitter  skies. 
In  this  contest  Pater  commonly  came  off  victor, 
and  offered  the  firstling,  eyes  dancing  and  fine 
mouth  smiling  to  our:  "You  are  a  winner, 
Daddy!  Where  you  found  it  I  don't  see." 
From  that  hour  spring  had  come. 

The  legended  redbud  also  marked  the  year's 
incoming  tide.  I  still  recall  mornings  when  re- 
port went  at  breakfast  that  one  of  the  trees  had 
garmented  itself  in  imperial  colors,  amid  a  group 
of  pawpaws  and  coffee-beans  down  on  the  south 
bank — to  one  redbud  slipping  roots  in  level 
ground  you  will  find  an  aspiring  ten  loving  to 
climb  the  broken  side  of  a  hill.  Redbuds  be- 
speak Kansas.  That  April  morning  the  train 
rolled  up  the  valley  bearing  us  to  our  new  home, 
our  fascinated  eyes  saw  first  the  Kaw  silvering 
on  our  left,  and  then,  on  the  right,  ridges  far  and 
woods  near  blotched  with  the  purple  of  the 
lovely  tree. 

Many  another  growth  witnessed  to  the  beauty 
through  which  nature  speaks  in  Kansas.  On  a 
little  rise  between  our  house  and  Laurel  Town, 
at  the  edge  of  the  highway,  just  outside  the 
fence  and  therefore  public  property,  a  wild  crab 


NEAB   LAUREL  TOWN  13 

lifted  its  warty  trunk.  It  was  a  sturdy  little 
fellow,  the  tree,  not  so  tall  as  wild  crabs  some- 
times grow,  but  making  up  for  its  dwarfish 
stature  by  a  particularly  beautiful  and  sym- 
metrical umbrella  of  branches  and  foliage.  We 
loved  the  wilding,  just  as  you  love  some  cher- 
ished growth,  and  Pater  protected  its  sturdiness, 
so  far  as  he  was  able ;  and  also  its  comrade,  the 
weaker  mandrake,  that  grew  close  to  and 
straight  up  from  its  foot. 

A  number  of  springs,  as  we  drove  to  and  from 
town,  we  watched  for  the  coming  of  the  crab- 
blossoms  and  mandrake,  and  when  they  did  set 
out  their  wonders,  we  would  climb  from  what- 
ever we  were  riding  in,  buggy,  phaeton  or  red 
wagon,  to  look  closer  at  the  pallor  of  mandra- 
gora  hiding  herself  in  her  own  heavy  shade,  and 
the  crab-buds  holding  forth  their  auroral  pink. 
Somehow  we  never  thought  of  picking  or  tear- 
ing the  blossoms — that  would  have  seemed  dese- 
cration ;  an  expectancy  of  the  future  and  regard 
for  others'  rights  forbade. 

But  at  last,  in  an  election,  a  new  roadmaster 
(I  think  that  was  the  name  the  law  gave  him) 
came  into  power — a  man,  I  fancy,  who  endeav- 
ored to  do  his  duty  in  whatever  place  it  pleased 
heaven  to  call  him,  and  to  do  it  thoroughly. 
Leastwise,  one  day,  when  we  were  all  gone  about 


14  LIFE  ON  A  FAEM 

our  various  duties  and  no  one  by  to  defend  the 
helpless,  this  roadmaster  came  with  a  sqnad  of 
malefactors  (they  called  themselves  road- 
makers)  and  they  cut  down  the  crab  tree  and 
drove  a  scoop  shovel  over  the  mandrake. 

Back  in  the  centuries,  ancestors  of  ours  had 
a  legend  that  mandrakes  cry  when  wrenched 
from  their  soil. 

"And  shrieks  like  mandrakes,  torn  out  of  the  earth, 
That  living  mortals,  hearing  them,  run  mad," 

said  Borneo's  Juliet. 

What  wail  did  our  mandrake  send  forth  that 
morning,  I  wonder! 

But  those  road-makers  did  not  run  mad.  They 
were  mad  before  they  destroyed  the  beauty 
nature  had,  for  reasons  nature  alone  knows, 
paired  in  intimacy.  Barren  ignorance  only 
pardons  their  act.  They  gained  nothing  by 
their  havoc,  save  another  stretch  of  plastic  clay, 
ready  for  gullying  by  Kansas  down-pours ;  not 
protected  even  by  such  substitutes  as  nature  in 
helpful  mood  is  able  to  plant  in  Kansas — sumach 
and  buckberry,  mullein  and  butterfly  weed,  and 
the  old,  native  blue-stem  grass. 

The  cutting  off  of  crab  and  mandrake,  beauty- 
bringing,  not  offending,  proved  one  of  our  early 
disillusionings. 


NBAE  LA.TTBEL  TOWN  15 

n 

We  had  gone  to  the  farm  to  stay  by  it.  Pater 
was  not  satisfied  with  all  he  found  at  hand, 
however.  He  remembered  with  affection 
growths  of  his  old  home,  and  he  sent  to  Roches- 
ter, Philadelphia,  Marblehead  and  other  nurs- 
ery-centres for  many  a  tree,  shrub,  vine  and 
vegetable.  Orchard  planting  with  him  was  al- 
most a  passion;  and  he  imported  varieties  of 
trees  he  thought  fitted  for  the  Kansas  climate. 

One  afternoon  I  recall,  when  he  and  another 
lover  of  apples  whose  name  I  am  not  so  fortu- 
nate to  bear  in  memory — how  the  two  walked 
about  young  plantations  in  the  mellow  fall  sun- 
shine discussing  sorts  new  to  pomologists,  affec- 
tionately rubbing  palm  over  a  sapling's  bark, 
opening  knife  now  and  then  to  strike  off  a  sucker, 
and  finally  picking  first  fruits  and  going  with 
heaping  hands  and  pockets  to  the  dining  room 
for  sampling.  They  had  kindly  included  me  in 
the  excursion,  and  after  I  got  silver-bladed 
knives  for  cutting  the  fruit  (for  that  metal 
would  resist  the  acid  of  the  apple  and  not  defect 
the  taste),  they  invited  my  opinion  as  to  flavor, 
tenderness  and  succulency  of  meat,  and  other 
points  worth  attention  in  the  product  of  Eve's 
goodliest  tree. 


16  LIFE   ON   A   FARM 

Among  his  importations  of  beauty,  and  not 
of  practical  use,  that  we  regarded  with  special 
affection  was  a  fringe  or  smokebush  which 
Kansas  suns  forced  to  luxuriant  proportions; 
and  among  roses  a  "perpetual  bloomer,"  as  cata- 
logues say,  which  we  knew  by  the  name  of 
"Madame  Laffay."  The  rose  had  a  modest 
turn  of  petal,  as  well  as  a  deep  pink  color  and 
fragrant  scent,  and  served  Pater  in  his  habit  of 
picking  a  flower  and  laying  it  by  the  breakfast 
or  dinner  plate  of  some  member  of  the  family. 
The  tray  that  bore  food  to  the  one  of  us  confined 
to  a  sick-room  often  carried  his  greetings  of  a 
"Madame  Laffay" — one  such  tray  laden  with 
tender  shoots  he  had  searched  the  asparagus  bed 
to  find,  I  remember ;  and  there  beside  the  toast 
lay  his  good  wishes,  the  rose. 

In  years  since  then  all  these  growths  have 
perished — not  only  trees  and  shrubs  of  practi- 
cal value,  but  of  touching  history.  Where  stood 
an  orchard  from  which  winds  of  early  May  bore 
through  our  house  the  fragrance  of  apple  blos- 
soms and  whitened  the  grass  with  fallen  petals, 
succulent  alfalfa  was  lately  growing.  But  he 
who  cut  down  the  orchards  (alas !)  had  at  least 
one  pleasure — for  we  learned  long  before,  at 
times  trimmers  were  lopping  branches,  that 
apple-tree  wood  burns  brightly  in  a  fireplace, 


NEAR  LAUREL,  TOWN  17 

and  when  the  wind  curls  down  the  chimney  of  a 
girty  cvomng  in  November,  and  send  whiffs  of 
smoke  into  the  room,  its  scent  is  delicious. 

Although  he  had  bought  other  farms  lying 
across  the  river,  on  the  home-place  Pater  spent 
his  love  of  the  growth  of  things.  Renters, 
testifying  to  their  skill  in  husbandry  and  vaunt- 
ing the  richness  of  the  soil,  might  bring  water- 
melons weighing  more  than  fifty  pounds  from 
11  White  Turkey";  or  from  "Hawk's  Nest"  bags 
of  astonishing  yams  and  corn  in  its  day  of  per- 
fection for  the  hungry  tooth  (such  ears  as  our 
negro  friends  used  to  call  "roastin'  years")* 
nothing  could  swerve  his  loyalty  from  the  home- 
place. 

In  propagation  he  wanted  to  improve  breeds, 
and  he  introduced  strains  of  blood  new  to  Kan- 
sas. Mares  of  good  pedigree  he  brought  from 
the  old  New  York  home ;  and  cows  of  Shorthorn 
variety  he  imported  to  better  beef  grown  for 
market.  Each  offspring  of  these  animals  we 
rejoiced  in  and  would  discuss  through  a  meal- 
time what  name  it  should  bear. 

None  of  us,  however,  seemed  so  successful  as 
Pater  in  hitting  the  right  descriptive;  as 
"Higgles,"  after  Bret  Harte's  heroine,  for  a 
grey  colt;  "Beauty"  for  a  Shorthorn  calf,  per- 
fect in  color  and  outline;  "Lucy  Lightfoot"  for 


18  LIFE   ON   A  FARM 

a  gazelle-like,  chestnuit-sorel  colt.  A.  bull  lie 
named  "Robert  Burns"  because  of  certain  lines 
of  the  poet  about  a  ranting  roarin'  laddie.  In 
one  instance  alone  do  I  remember  that  I  suc- 
ceeded with  a  name — when  a  tiger-striped 
tramp-cat  took  up  abode  with  us  and  I  dubbed 
her  "Sallie  Brass"  because,  especially  in  face, 
she  so  much  resembled  that  heroine  of  Dickens ; 
and,  on  looking  at  the  cat,  friends,  with  a  burst 
of  laughter,  said  they  easily  traced  the  likeness. 

Pigs  our  farm  bred  by  scores,  and  although 
about  those  interesting  and  sagacious  animals, 
who  loved  their  freedom  of  broad  fields  and 
crunched  yellow  corn  with  amazing  gusto,  my 
knowledge  is  somewhat  hazy,  I  know  I  am  safe 
in  saying  they  were  of  the  Berkshire  breed — 
yet  in  my  mind's  eye  I  seem,  also,  to  see  certain 
smooth  sides  of  the  Poland  China. 

The  comeliness  of  the  piglings  in  their  early 
days,  their  slickest  of  black  satin  skins,  their 
shrewdest  of  wits,  their  cunningest  of  eyes  and 
hungriest  of  "tummies" — how  could  one  forget 
the  wights !  What  a  sight  it  was  when  a  mother 
threw  herself  on  her  side  with  half-shut  eyes  of 
rest  and  satisfaction  in  motherdom,  and  her 
brood  fell  to  rooting,  squealing  and  crowding 
for  their  suppers !  Was  ever  natural  sight  more 
mirth-provoking  to  on-lookers  watching  over  the 


NBAB  LAUBMj  TOWN  19 

fence,  or  satisfactory  to  actors  themselves! 
With  what  appetite  did  the  tiny,  scareful 
scamperers  pump  their  milk! — and  when  they 
had  their  surfeit  run  grunting  to  a  bundle  of 
straw  and  pack  together  for  sleep ! 

In  poultry  Pater  brought  in  brilliant-plumaged 
Spanish  pheasants.  The  shell  of  their  eggs  had 
a  peculiar  translucence,  which,  we  used  to  say, 
made  them  look  like  pearls.  Each  industrious 
hen  was  apt  to  meet  her  duty  of  laying  an  egg 
a  day,  except  in  midwinter.  But  then  we  may 
have  been  gifted  with  that  power  Auntie  Lee 
said  her  owner  ascribed  to  northerners:  "De 
Yankees  cozen  de  hens  to  make  four  eggs  out  o' 
three." 

Through  our  Father's  fondness  for  animals 
and  household-pets  we  had  always  various  sorts 
indoors  as  well  as  out.  Our  adventures  with 
their  personalities  would  fill  a  book  of  days. 
Most  wonderful  of  them  all,  I  think,  was  a  little 
hybrid  who  inherited  a  half-shaggy  tail  and 
upright  ears  from  his  milk-white,  finely  propor- 
tioned, Spitz  mama,  Nipha  (named  after  the 
Greek  word  for  snow),  and  for  the  rest  the  short 
hair  and  colors  of  his  black-and-tan  terrier  sire. 
That  he  came  to  be  an  important  member  of  the 
family  would  seem  all  the  odder,  if  you  knew 
my  Father's  care  for  fine  strain  in  his  dumb 


20  LIFE  ON   A   FARM 

friends.  But  this  little  fellow  won  his  way  by 
sheer  truth  and  sincerity,  his  affection  and  un- 
swerving loyalty;  qualities  he  doubtless  inher- 
ited from  his  lady  dam. 

He  answered  to  John  in  everyday  life,  but 
his  full-sized  title  was  Jonathan  Edwards,  be- 
cause, just  as  the  distinguished  divine  of  that 
name,  at  an  exceedingly  precocious  age,  inter- 
ested himself  in  his  days'  burning  question  of 
freedom  of  the  will,  so  this  black-and-tan  ter- 
rier, when  a  few  weeks  old,  finding  himself  alone 
in  the  library,  fell  to  riddling  a  pamphlet  which 
treated  nineteenth-century  views  of  Liberty  and 
Necessity. 

As  the  little  creature  grew  in  months  and 
years,  he  came  to  be  the  canniest  of  all  dumb 
creatures  we  had  ever  known.  His  knowledge 
passed  canniness — it  was  uncanny.  All  things 
touching  life  about  him  he  understood.  Even  if, 
knowing  his  eyes  were  shining  and  upright  ears 
listening,  you  in  circumlocutory  phrase  asked 
the  man  to  bring  up  your  horse  at  a  certain 
hour,  John  knew;  and  just  about  that  hour  he 
would  have  pressing  business  calling  him  out  of 
the  house. 

When  he  had  induced  you  to  open  the  door, 
and  with  apparent  indifference  and  dignified 
slowness  had  walked  to  the  edge  of  the  porch, 


NEAR   LAUREL  TOWN  21 

he  would,  after  a  moment's  leisurely  survey  of 
the  landscape,  set  out  clipping  for  the  recesses 
of  a  hedge  a  little  distance  away.  You  would 
turn  your  horse's  head  towards  town  and  drive 
past  the  hedge.  Then  John  would  suddenly 
materialize.  If  you  did  not  want  his  company, 
you  could  not  force  him  back,  tell  the  truth  as 
you  might. 

At  last,  wearied  of  exhorting  him  settled  on 
his  haunches  and  eying  you  with  a  countenance 
which  said,  "Suppose  you  have  done  with  all 
this  chinning  and  go  on" — when  finally  (you 
drove  forward,  he  would  drop  in  the  rear  of 
your  phaeton  and  pay  whatever  visits  you  paid, 
going  in  with  you,  sitting  close  to  your  knee, 
and  listening  with  only  an  occasional  yawn.  In 
spite  of  the  yawn  he  may  not  have  found  your 
wit  so  intollerahly  dull;  "When  I  play  with  my 
cat,"  said  Montaigne,  "who  knows  whether  I  do 
not  make  her  more  sport  than  she  makes  met" 

After  my  Father  went  on  the  bench,  John 
seemed  to  find  he  must  accompany  the  Judge 
every  day  court  sat  and  roads  were  not  muddy — 
not  in  muddy  weather,  for  he  was  exceedingly 
neat  about  his  person,  and  such  days  he  would 
look  drearily  down  the  road  and  stay  behind. 
Keeping  clean  was  an  instinct  of  his.  When 
occasion  had  forced  him  in  the  wet  Kansas  clay, 


22  LIFE   ON   A   FARM 

he  would  glance  from  his  feet  to  you  and  stand 
with  a  deprecatory  expression  on  his  sensitive 
face,  till,  from  -sheer  laughter  and  pity  you  fell 
to  and  helped  him  restore  the  neatness  he 
loved. 

A  storm  might  come  when  he  was  in  Laurel 
Town.  Then,  oftenest,  he  would  drop  away 
from  his  master,  take  the  sidewalk  direct  to  my 
sister,  Mrs.  Green's  house,  announce  himself  by 
a  characteristic  pawing  at  an  entrance,  and  when 
the  door  opened  go  in  and  pass  the  night  as  her 
guest,  staying  sometimes  more  than  one  night 
if  the  roads  kept  had;  hut  in  three  days,  even 
with  "mud  more  'n  bootleg  deep"  (  as  one  of 
our  black  aunties  once  described  the  mire)  pick- 
ing his  way  home  with  crestfallen  looks  and 
pleas  of  forgiveness  in  every  line  of  his  small 
body.  He  could  not  ride  in  a  wagon  because  its 
motion  upset  him. 

As  I  have  intimated,  John  had  a  most  extraor- 
dinary sense  of  time — the  time  of  day — and 
if,  when  my  Father  was  holding  court,  the  usual 
hour  for  adjournment  had  passed,  the  little 
rascal  would  issue  from  a  private  room,  and  go 
to  the  Judge  and  strike  him  with  a  forepaw  on 
the  knee.  Lawyers  practising  in  the  court  told 
me  this,  and  that  Pater  would  pat  the  dog's  head 
and  answer,  "Yes,  John,  after  a  while";  when 


NEAE   LAUREL   TOWN  23 

John  would  stifle  his  impatience  with  another 
nap. 

John  as  house-dog  companioned  an  out-door 
collie  named  Tony  Weller.  Between  the  two 
lay  an  unswerving  affection  and  days  in  the 
colder  months,  when  John  stayed  at  home,  Tony 
would  come  upon  the  porch  and  invite  him  to  go 
hunting — for  Tony  was  excessively  fond  of  the 
Nimrod  business.  In  such  weather  they  com- 
monly planned  their  chase  through  the  long 
windows  (Tony  on  the  outside,  as  I  said,  John 
within  with  forepaws  on  the  window  sill  and 
hind  feet  on  the  floor,)  and  by  varying  their 
tones,  turning  and  twisting  eyes  and  ears  and 
heads,  wagging  tails,  lolling  out  tongues  and 
making  other  subtle  motions  of  the  body,  seem- 
ingly fitted  details  to  a  T ;  sometimes  they  even 
rubbed  their  noses  on  the  window  pane,  but  that 
may  have  been  due  to  their  anticipations  of 
pleasures  of  the  chase.  Friends  seeing  their 
antics  for  the  first  time  could  hardly  believe  our 
explanation;  "Tony  is  asking  John  to  go  hunt- 
ing." 

Tony  did  not  initiate  these  expeditions.  Be- 
fore Tony's  day  Sir  Nicholas  Tubbus,  a  liver- 
colored,  short-haired  hunting  dog  had  played 
the  game  with  John — he  earned  the  name  of  Sir 
Nicholas  because  as  a  puppy  he  was  the  vera 


24  LIFE   ON   A   FAEM 

ould  Nick,  and  Tubbus  on  the  ground  of  his  be- 
ing a  vat,  a  tub,  for  food,  sometimes  licking  his 
platter  clean  and  then  curling  round  it  and 
groaning  from  repletion.  But  Tubbus  was  more 
saturnine  in  preparing  for  the  chase;  in  accord 
with  the  heavy,  wordless,  melancholy  disposition 
common  to  those  who  eat  large  meals  and  chew 
their  food  little.  Tony's  Scottish  vivacity  and 
vigor  gave  more  color  to  hunting  preliminaries. 

When  they  had  settled  as  to  the  sally,  John's 
habit  was  to  ask  whoever  chanced  at  hand  to 
open  the  doors  for  him,  and  the  twa  dogs  would 
trot  away  side  by  side.  In  colder  weather  they 
would  commonly  make  a  bee-line  for  a  corn- 
field, and  to  some  shack  where  rabbits  had  set 
up  a  bunny  nursery  and  housekeeping. 

At  this  juncture  the  cleverness  of  their  plan- 
ning became  still  clearer  to  mere  humans,  for 
John,  much  the  smaller  of  the  two,  would  enter 
the  hole  the  rabbits  had  made  in  the  shack,  and 
upon  his  burrowing  the  game  would  start  forth 
— leaping  into  the  lion's  mouth,  poor  rabbits! 
For  Tony,  waiting  in  intense  excitement  at  the 
door  of  the  passage,  caught  each  one  and  broke 
its  back. 

Oftenest  they  would  bring  what  booty  they 
had  bagged  up  to  the  house,  and,  with  gleaming 
eyes  and  considerable  appearance  of  fatigue,  lay 


NEAR    LAUREL   TOWN  25 

it  on  the  ground.  John  would  then  paw  at  a 
door,  and  on  entering  would' attract  attention  by 
looking  steadfastly  in  the  face  of  whomsoever 
he  found  and  running  to  door  or  window — invit- 
ing to  a  view  of  the  chase's  trophies,  that  is. 
The  hunters'  gratification  lay  in  their  receiving 
approving  pats  and  hearing  themselves  called 
"good  boys"  for  their  help  in  reducing  the  gird- 
lers  of  young  apple  trees  and  other  growths. 
Little  happening  like  these  lightened  our  days. 


in 

Oversight  of  land,  increase  of  basket  and  of 
flock  bring  the  homier  things  to  a  farm's  family. 
My  Father's  frail  body  and  life-long  habits  of 
study  permitted  little  physical  labor.  Driving 
a  pair  of  horses  from  the  seat  of  a  mower  and 
reaper  one  summer  morning  I  remember  seeing 
him ;  and  the  few  times  the  picturesque  thresh- 
ing machine  set  up  its  engine  and  broad  chute 
beside  the  stone  barn,  he  stood  not  far  off  count- 
ing bags  of  wheat  and  jotting  in  his  diary. 

So  with  other  members  of  the  family— our 
lending  a  hand  to  the  farming  came  about  only 
by  some  spontaneity,  some  whimeey.  Every 
day  the  children  who  were  at  home  drove  off  to 


26  LIFE   ON  A  FARM 

Laurel  Town,  preparing  to  -enter,  or  already 
matriculated  at  the  university.  Treasures  of 
other  peoples,  other  centuries  and  other  lands 
had  captivated  us ;  and  our  parents,  loyal  to  the 
ardor  for  education  inherited  of  their  old  New 
England  blood,  gave  us  free  leash  and  furthered 
our  zeal  to  their  utmost. 

Therefore,  just  as  a  story  of  a  larger  human 
society  tells  not  only  of  its  political  economies, 
but  also  of  its  people's  inward  life,  their  spirit's 
wonder  at  this  mysterious  world,  its  beauty,  its 
truth ;  so  this  half-told  tale  of  the  microcosm  of 
a  farm  must,  in  some  slight  way,  speak  of  the 
purely  inward  action  of  its  dwellers.  Mental 
and  imaginative  life  to  many  natures  is  the  best 
part  of  their  days. 

We  were  readers.  Novels  then  appearing — 
of  George  Eliot,  Charles  Reade,  Wilkie  Collins, 
Walter  Besant,  Victor  Hugo  and  others — came 
to  our  hands;  and  periodicals  from  New  York 
and  Boston.  For  instance,  every  week  we 
anxiously  waited  the  serialized  "Mystery  of 
Edwin  Drood."  And  dark  and  unhappy  was  the 
June  day  that  brought  news  of  the  passing  of 
its  author. 

Charles  Dickens  dead !  His  pen  fallen !  How 
could  all  be  as  before !  Why  did  the  sun  shine ! 
Why  the  birds  sing !  That  slender  figure  whose 


NEAK   LAUREL,   TOWN 


27 


every  movement  we  had  watched  in  hushed  awe ! 
That  mellow  voice  to  which  we  had  rapturously 
listened!  Never  again  to  tell  "The  Christmas 
Carol" !  Never  again  the  laughter-moving  trial 
of  Bardell  versus  Pickwick!  Why  should  he, 
wonder-worker,  lie  motionless  at  Gad's  Hill,  and 
weak  and  worthless  lives  cumber  the  earth?  In 
the  great  scheme  of  justice  how  could  it  bet 

But  weeping  under  Kansas  cottonwoods; 
questioning  the  sky;  listening  to  the  threnody 
of  the  winds'  voices — tears  never  yet  restored  a 
maker  of  the  magic  of  literature.  Not  even  so 
long  ago  as  when,  in  old  Trinacria,  his  work- 
fellow  lamented  the  end  of  the  singing  of  Bion : 

"Begin  ye,  Muses  of  Sicily,  begin  the  dirge !" 

Evenings  on  a  farm  are,  or  were,  aptly  lacking 
in  vacuous  liveliness,  such  entertainment  aa 
lighter,  or  merrier,  natures  afford.  Our  short 
hours  were  of  reading  and  music.  Our  Mother 
had  a  voice  of  unusual  sweetness  and  sympathy, 
and  she  sometimes  sang  with  us,  in  the  carmina 
sacra  we  Americans  inherit  from  colonial  fore- 
bears, parts  she  had  known  in  her  childhood  in 
the  city  of  New  York. 

Other  times  Pater  would,  with  piano  accom- 
paniment take  "Scots  wha  ha*  wi'  Wallace 
bled,"  "Bonnie  Doon,"  "Mary's  Dream," 


28  LIFE   ON   A   FARM 

"Sweet  Afton"  and  a  hundred  others.  Then, 
too,  he  had  humorous  solos,  such  as  "Vilikens 
and  his  Dinah;"  and  American  melodies  like 
"Uncle  Ned,"  "Nelly  Gray,"  "Old  Folks  at 
Home,"  and  the  soft-voiced 

"On  a  floating  scow  of  Ole  Virginy, 

I  worked  from  day  to  day, 

A-fishin'  amongst  the  oyster-beds, 

To  me  it  was  but  play. 

But  now  I'm  old,  and  feeble  too, 

I  cannot  work  any  more; 

So  carry  me  back  to  Ole  Virginy, 

To  Ole  Virginy  shore." 

From  one  book,  so  aged  that  its  music  stood 
in  "buckwheat"  notes,  we  took  English  martial 
tunes,  as  "The  Moonlight  March,"  with  Bishop 
Heber's 

"I  see  them  on  their  winding  way, 
About  their  ranks  the  moonbeams  play ; 
Their  lofty  deeds  and  daring  high, 
Blend  with  the  notes  of  victory ; 
And  waving  arms  and  banners  bright 
Are  glancing  in  the  mellow  light." 

I  speak  with  particularity  because  I  have 
heard  foreigners,  in  our  country  to  gain  a  better 
living  than  they  could  get  in  their  birthlands,  by 
speech  and  mannerisms  constantly  endeavoring 
to  assure  us  that  they  were  not  Americans — I 


NEAR  LAUREL   TOWN  29 

have  heard  salad-minded  foreigners  (the  salad 
suffering  an  overdose  of  vinegar)  repeatedly 
declare  we  Americans  had  no  music,  "  except 
Yankee  Doodle,"  before  they  projected  their 
shallow  egotism  in  our  midst. 

My  sister  played  with  no  little  brilliance  con- 
cert pieces  then  in  vogue,  and  had  for  her  field 
Scottish  melodies  and  Chopin's  nocturnes; 
while  I  ranged  in  Irish  and  German  songs  and 
Beethoven's  sonatas.  English  folk-songs  and 
adaptations  from  operas  we  divided.  Wagner's 
music  was  then  wandering  to  us  in  fragments ; 
which  grew  more  meaningful  when  Mr.  J.  R.  G. 
Hassard  filled  the  old  New  York  Tribune  with 
analyses  of  the  first  Bayreuth  "King  of  the 
Nibelungs." 

.Evenings,  too,  and  on  Sunday  afternoons, 
Pater  would  now  and  then  read  aloud — I  recall 
times  he  chose  the  Book  of  Job ;  certain  Psalms ; 
Hamlet;  Pope's  " Essay  on  Man";  Burns'  "Cot- 
ter's Saturday  Night"  and  "Tarn  0'  Shan- 
ter;"  poems  of  Thomas  Hood  about  Dame 
Eleanor  Spearing's  trumpet,  "The  Elm  Tree," 
"Miss  Killmansegg  and  her  Precious  Leg"; 
and  stories  from  Irving. 

Along  with  my  Father's  view  of  life,  and  love 
for  the  fundamentals  of  life,  lay  unswerving 
devotion  to  truth  and  loathing  of  pretence  and 


30  LIFE   ON   A   FARM 

shams.  This,  with  him,  included  an  abhorrence 
of  the  intellectual  dishonesty  which  twists  and 
distorts  words  from  their  commonly  accepted 
meaning,  and  cloaks  itself  in  phrases  that  cant 
or  conceal  their  real  significance. 

In  those  times,  almost  fifty  years  ago,  every 
day  saw  publication  of  age  long  Hypotheses  upon 
our  world's  evolution.  Now,  at  first  blush, 
those  hypotheses  seemed  to  war  with  the  preva- 
lent theology.  Therefore  their  popularization 
met  many  an  anathema  from  short-sighted  or 
fear-stricken  ecclesiasts ;  who  rose  as  a  man  to 
the  defense  of  Pliny. 

Theories  of  evolution  went  on  winning,  how- 
ever. They  appealed  to  those  seeking  enduring 
foundations,  and  not  endeavoring  to  square  their 
reasoning  to  some  evanescent  dogma.  They 
appealed  to  thinkers  in  fundamental  truths  who 
were  sure  to  create  the  spiritual  atmosphere  of 
heirs  of  the  anathematizers — heirs  who  have  now 
come  to  realize  that  the  hypotheses  endow  our 
earth,  and  all  it  carries,  and  has  carried,  with  a 
divinity  beyond  the  vision  of  any  arrogance; 
spiritual  heirs  whom  I  (so  great  changes  may 
one  life  witness !)  lately  heard  preaching  from  a 
pulpit  of  old  Trinity,  New  York,  on  Hebrews, 
xiii,  2, ' l  Be  not  forgetful  to  entertain  strangers ; 
for  thereby  some  have  entertained  angels  un- 


NEAB  LAUREL  TOWN  31 

awares;"  "angels,"  the  sermon  explained,  being 
current  theories  of  evolution  and  ' '  Darwinism." 
In  all  the  then  ferment  and  stir,  calm  thinking 
ruled  at  our  house — to  those  standing  firm  on 
truth,  first  "angels,"  and  ultimately  all  peoples 
come.  Of  the  Eternal  Power 

"Which  wields  the  world  with  never-wearied  love, 
Sustains  it  from  beneath,  and  kindles  it  above." 

we  spoke  not  readily.  But  the  mighty  works 
of  that  Power  we  watched  with  unceasing  awe 
and  interest.  Darwin's  books,  and  Huxley's, 
and  TyndalPs,  found  ready  readers  with  us ;  no 
where  more  interested  discussers.  We  brought 
the  teachings  into  various,  although  necessarily 
minor,  relations.  For  instance,  Pater  now  and 
then  called  our  attention  to  coloration  in  plants 
and  animals,  and  constantly  taught  us  to  reason 
towards  causes  from  effects. 

One  occurence,  but  I  hasten  to  add  exceedingly 
minor,  rises  to  memory  at  this  moment: — A 
September  morning,  the  sun  burning  through  a 
light,  veiling  fog,  as  he  and  I  were  driving  I 
exclaimed,  "I  smell  tuberoses  in  the  wind." 

"Let  us  keep  to  the  scent  till  we  find  them," 
he  answered. 

At  last  we  came  upon  a  field  of 

"The  sweetest  flower  for  scent  that  blows." 


32  LIFE   ON   A   FAKM 

"A  field  of  tuberoses !"  I  cried,  amazed  at  the 
exotic  opulence  of  the  acres.  It  seemed  as  if 
an  aromatic  plain  or  fragrant  garden  of  Lallah 
Kookh  unfolded  before  us;  or  better  still  the 
Feast  of  Roses  at  Cashmere. 

* '  To  sell,"  the  owner  answered  with  occidental 
practicality,  telling  how  he  raised  bulbs  to 
market  in  colder  latitudes. 

Another  day  I  found  a  dried  field-mouse  on 
the  thorn  of  an  osage-orange  hedge,  and  we 
studied  how  a  butcher-bird  had  probably  caught 
the  little  pilferer  and  impaled  it  against  his 
needs. 

Many  were  such  learnings. 


IV 

Men  who  kept  our  farm  in  order  came  mainly 
from  the  north  of  Europe.  Their  bodies,  stunted 
and  brawny,  testified  how  generations  of  fore- 
bears had  labored  unceasingly  and  suffered  lack 
of  food ;  calling  to  your  mind  vegetation  in  Ari- 
zona— you  saw  they  had  grown  to  strange  forms 
just  as  cacti  do  eking  out  a  living  in  hostile  en- 
vironment. Even  their  faces  were  muscular,  and 
often  looked  as  if  carved  from  gutta  percha,  or 
mahogany. 


NEAE   IATJBEL,  TOWN  33 

Of  all  the  best  was  Nielson,  a  nutty  little 
native  of  the  fiord  land — silent,  ably  executive, 
whose  countenance  now  and  then  relaxed,  when 
a  smile  would  push  through  wrinkles  about  the 
eyes,  trickle  down  his  cheeks  till  it  settled  about 
the  mouth ;  and  the  smile's  meaningf  ulness  made 
up  for  the  face's  prevalent  apathy. 

Nielson  had  a  singular  power.  He  loved  ani- 
mals with  an  intensity  I  have  never  seen  in  any 
other  human.  Wooden  and  stolid  towards  the 
world  at  large,  with  a  sort  of  ashamed  suppres- 
sion of  self,  this  doubtless,  also,  a  result  of  cen- 
turies of  oppression — a  status  you  could  not  call 
stoic  calm,  for  stoic  calm  connotes  intellectual 
refinement — he  would,  when  he  thought  no  one 
saw  him,  hug  a  horse,  lay  his  head  alongside  a 
cow's  neck,  and  squeeze  a  satin-bound  pigling  till 
it  squealed.  Or,  his  strange  power  may  have 
come  from  his  music.  From  a  mere  mouth-organ 
I  never  heard  its  equal. 

Often  of  bright  Sunday  mornings — like  those 
a  Nova  Scotia  nurse  used  to  describe  in  her 
poetic  Scotch  accent  as  "God's  own  glory  is  in 
the  air  t his  morning" — often  of  a  Sunday  morn- 
ing, he  would  go  off  to  the  north  meadow  wifh 
this  Pan-pipe  of  his,  and  draw  forth  melodies  of 
his  native  land  and  others  picked  up  here,  walk- 
ing about  among  the  animals.  Having  gained 


34  LIFE   ON   A   FA  KM 

their  attention,  or  perhaps  made  them  aware  of 
his  comradeship,  he  would  set  off  marching  in 
military  gait  up  and  down  the  sward. 

His  intimates  would  fall  in  line  behind  him, 
and  he  would  seemingly  swerve  them  where  he 
chose.  He  would  circle  a  high-set  windmill  tire- 
lessly pumping  sweet  water  for  their  drinking 
troughs.  They  would  follow.  He  would  go  round 
an  old  oak,  haunt  of  red-winged  blackbirds,  then 
down  through  the  ravine.  They  after  him. 

First  in  line  came  Higgles,  a  well-bred  filly 
with  ways  as  graceful  and  coaxing  as  a  kitten's 
— for  whenever  you  went  into  her  close,  she 
would  hasten  to  you  with  a  bowing  motion  of 
her  head,  and  walk  about  with  you,  her  nose-tip 
on  your  shoulder.  If  you  were  to  explain  her  by 
human  reasoning,  you  would  say  it  was  an  odd, 
quizzical  pose  of  hers,  that  nose-tip  on  the 
shoulder  business,  springing  from  confidence  in 
and  warmheartedness  towards  you.  Equinely, 
also,  it  may  have  been  that.  When  she  was  at  it, 
she  seemed  to  be  pouring  loving  gossip  in  your 
ear,  even  if  she  spoke  none  other  than  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Houyhnhnms. 

Trailing  in  line  after  Miggles  came  Dick.  Then 
Nick  the  roadster,  and  Betsy  Bobbit,  a  nervous 
little  creature  with  a  vindictive  eye  and  anarchis- 
tic notions  in  her  small  head.  Then  Fanny  Fire- 


NEAR  IAUBEL,   TOWN  35 

fly,  as  fine  a  buckskin  mare  as  ever  laid  back  ears 
and  hastened  her  gait  if  she  heard  a  wagon 
ahead  of  her.  Then  other  horses,  four  or  five  of 
them. 

Next  came  the  mules.  Poor,  patient  beasts! 
For  some  reason  they  never  associated  with 
the  horses.  Somehow  social  lines  were  as  clearly 
drawn  in  their  meadow  as  in  the  bigger  world  of 
men.  You  never  saw  a  simple-minded,  melan- 
choly-faced mule  hobnobbing  with  a  sleek,  blue- 
blooded  horse.  The  two  of  them,  mule  and  horse, 
fed  in  different  patches,  and  seemingly  endured 
each  other's  company — just  as  humans  do  when 
conventions  enslave  them. 

After  the  mules  the  cows  dragged  their  slow 
feet.  Shorthorns  mainly;  but  a  couple  of 
Jerseys  and  a  native  or  two  had  crept  in.  Be- 
tween these  thorough-breds  and  plain-rangers, 
however,  lurked  no  smug  airs  of  upper  and 
lower,  no  snobbery.  Together  they  grazed  and 
ruminated.  Together  they  sought  the  watering 
troughs  in  the  noontide  heat.  Together  they 
huddled  when  the  wind  suddenly  veered  and  a 
fierce  norther  struck  down  from  the  upper  airs. 
And  now  they  marched  in  mixed  file  to  Nielson's 
music,  yet  so  far  along  the  line  that  their  ears 
must  have  been  very  sensitive  to  catch  the  melo- 
dies' beat. 


36  LIFE   ON   A  FABM 

Oddest  of  all,  perhaps,  were  the  sheep. 
Whether  they  have  a  sense  of  rhythm  I  do  not 
know.  Yet  they,  too,  sometimes  fell  in  with  the 
parade.  Perhaps,  in  a  silly,  mutton-headed  way 
they  wanted  to  do  as  the  bigger  folk  of  the 
meadow  did.  At  any  rate  they  ambled  along  in 
Nielson's  trail,  heads  down,  as  if  in  reflective 
mood,  and  iails  sometimes  wagging  like  mad. 

But  Higgles  was  always  at  the  head,  and  fol- 
lowing close  after  Nielson,.  the  conjurer — he 
blowing  through  his  pipes  of  Pan  like  a  west 
wind  through  a  harp,  and  swinging  his  legs  just 
as  later  I  saw  soldo/ten,  new  at  the  goose-step, 
swing  theirs  on  the  Truppen  Uebungs  Plats 
near  Berlin. 

How,  one  again  wonders,  could  Nielson  have 
gained  this  power  of  leadership?  Through  his 
fondling  each  particular  friend?  Or,  in  this 
marvellous  world  of  ours,  and  its  mysterious 
life,  did  these  people  of  the  meadow  recognize  in 
him  some  sib,  some  creature  akin,  which  our 
more  evolved  senses  were  too  dull  to  perceive ; , 
and  did  they  honor  relationship  they  felt  by  fi- 
delity to  his  will? 

No  one  can  tell.  But  so  ran  history  upon  the 
bottom-land  of  our  farm  hard  by  Laurel  Town, 
when  cardinals  whistled  "What  cheer?"  in  Feb- 
ruary ;  and,  too,  when  summer  cuckoos  cried  over 


NEAR   LA.TJREL   TOWN  37 

sunlit  blue  grass  and  timothy.  Under  Kansas 
skies  a  minor  re-acting  of  that  wonder-worker  of 
Greece,  whose  legend  has  brightened  all  cen- 
turies since  the  hour,  when 

"Orpheus  with  his  lute  made  trees, 
And  the  mountain  tops  that  freeze, 
Bow  themselves,  when  he  did  sing." 

One  September  the  farm  and  all  its  dependent 
people  I  was  in  charge  of.  I  felt  the  responsi- 
bility unceasingly,  and,  up  and  about  early  of 
mornings,  one  day  I  stood  studying  the  egotism 
of  a  peacock  as  he  danced  before  his  mate,  in 
and  out  a  row  of  hemlocks  on  the  uplands  by  the 
house.  His  splendid  attire,  his  strut  and  vanity 
and  topping  rhythm  called  to  mind  certain  be- 
wigged,  belaced,  velvet-coated,  silk-stockinged 
ancestors  I  had  read  of — his  wings  sweeping  at 
and  beating  the  ground  serving  for  sword- 
clank — 

When  an  old  Sante  Fe  cattle-train  came  grind- 
ing down  the  track.  The  train  roared  with  ex- 
haustion, for  she  had  made  hundreds  of  miles 
with  least  possible  overhauling,  aiming  for  Kan- 
sas City  stock  yards  and  rest. 

Through  the  early  air,  above  the  creak  and 
rumble  of  worn  iron,  the  engine  screeched 
primeval  A.  Cottonwood  leaves,  and  willow, 


38  LIFE   ON   A   FAKM 

down  by  the  spring,  quivered  at  the  ear-«plitting 
note;  and  limestone  ridges,  lying  west,  barked 
back  A — A — A  over  dew-drenched  grasses. 

For  some  reason  of  the  moment  I  turned  from 
the  peacock  to  watch  the  train  through  the  morn- 
ing's horizontal  shafts  of  sunlight,  the  yellow 
clarity  of  the  early  fall. 

Suddenly  a  door  of  one  of  the  cars  slid  along 
its  groove.  In  the  opening  bristled  horns.  Bodies 
bearing  the  horns  came  in  sight — bodies  leaping 
and  landing  on  the  railway  embankment. 

The  train  rolled  on  towards  Laurel  Town  just 
round  the  curve. 

Texas  steers! — stunned  by  a  leap;  but  free. 
There  they  stood,  a  bit  shaky  in  leg,  and  as  if 
endeavoring  to  sense  their  freedom.  Then, 
seemingly  mastering  the  fact,  up  went  horns 
and  heads  and  out  went  tails.  Bellowing  they 
started  for  the  river  over  a  stretch  of  corn  stub- 
ble ;  and  on  to  where  the  waters  of  the  Kaw  shot 
their  light  through  the  timber. 

Others  had  seen  the  roisterers — three  farm- 
men  not  far  from  where  I  was  standing,  and 
they,  too,  shared  my  alarm.  Nielson,  gifted  with 
brains  and  best  of  workers;  John  shy  as  a 
weasel,  good  at  his  work  but  sulky  with  the  sour, 
wordless  sulkiness  I  have  seen  in  landmen  from 
Scandinavia ;  and  Ole,  whose  thick  blood  hatched 


NEAB   LAUREL,  TOWN  39 

megrims,  which  megrims  hatched  mental  dis- 
tortions, which  distortions  hatched  lies  and  love 
of  shirking. 

All  four  of  us,  I  say,  eyed  the  raiders.  Out  on 
the  plains  from  where  those  fellows  came  "  Tex- 
as fever"  had  been  raging,  and  cattle  dying 
by  thousands. 

The  imported  Shorthorns  down  in  their  yard 
below  I  grew  anxious  for.  How  happy  and 
peaceful  they  looked ! — nosing  golden  pumpkin, 
crunching  red-corn  breakfasts,  holding  their 
heads  on  a  line  with  their  bodies  as  they 
munched  and  lifted  up  their  eyes  in  gustatory 
satisfaction,  their  heavy  tongues  now  and  then 
lapping  drooling  lips.  What  a  picture  of  con- 
tentment ! 

Texas  steers  might  do  for  these  Shorthorns 
what  a  boy  does  when  he  carries  scarlet  fever, 
or  other  infection,  to  his  school. 

Plainly  enough  the  Texans  were  bent  on  bat- 
tle. They  had  suffered  horribly,  doubtless,  shut, 
cramped,  stifled  in  that  terrible  prison,  an  old- 
fashioned  cattle-car.  They  ached  for  motion, 
for  light,  air,  water,  food.  Ceaseless  roar,  jar 
and  jostle,  had  disordered  their  whole  being. 

There  they  stood  in  the  distance,  soaking  their 
dry  hoofs  in  the  river's  edge.  How  long  would 
they  keep  at  it? 


40  LIFE   ON   A  FARM 

But  even  now  they  were  turning  about,  blow- 
ing the  air  from  their  lungs  and  coming  up  to 
recross  the  railway.  A  field  of  clover  lay  before 
them.  " Hungry,  probably"  we  mused.  "They 
will  pasture". 

The  marauders  were  far  hungrier  for  mo- 
tion, for  equalizing  action,  for  stretching  their 
legs.  Energy  prompted  their  every  step.  The 
first  fence  they  reached  they  stuck  their  heads 
through  and  sent  its  wires  flying  as  if  they  were 
tow  twine. 

Next  the  clover  field  lay  a  ravine,  flooded 
when  the  river  rose  high ;  at  other  times  empty 
save  for  rabbits  and  chipmunks  at  housekeep- 
ing, and  coveys  of  quail  and  prairie-chicken  hid- 
ing in  its  matted  grass. 

Through  this  gully  the  Texans  charged  and  up 
its  hither  bank,  their  horns  set  for  battle.  Even 
at  our  distance  we  seemed  to  see  their  muscles 
twitching  and  nostrils  dilated.  Four  hundred 
feet  more  and  they  might  stand  at  the  cattle- 
yard,  their  horns  possibly  ripping  off  its  pal- 
ings. 

"Oughtn't  we  to  shoot  the  raiders!"  asked 
one  of  the  men. 

"A  pity  if  we  had  to!" 

"Some  train-men  must  have  seen  them  open 
the  car-door",  suggested  another,  "and  now  the 


NBAS   LAUREL  TOWN  41 

freighter  has  side-tracked  at  Laurel  Town, 
they'll  send  cowboys  to  corral  the  lot." 

"  Meanwhile,  will  the  Texans  disseminate  the 
fever?" 

Minutes  seemed  long  as  we  reflected. 

"A  man's  mad",  said  Nielson,  with  his  hesi- 
tating, wistful,  old-world-soil-tiller's  smile,  "a 
man's  mad  sometimes  goes  away  when  he's  had 
a  full  meal.  May  be  it's  the  same  with  -Texas 
steers.  Let's  try  and  see". 

So  the  three  seized  corn  knives,  and  ran  to 
fodder  stacks,  and  fell  to  work;  cutting  up 
sweet  pumpkins,  forking  green  stalks  of  corn 
at  the  feet  of  the  strangers  before  our  cattle- 
yard  gates. 

The  rough  steers  paused  and  sniffed  the  fra- 
jgrant  food.  One  daring  fellow  ran  out  his 
tongue  and  curled  it  back  loaded  with  pumpkin. 
He  was  quite  the  runt  of  the  lot;  a  blind  hog 
finding  the  acorns. 

The  steer  liked  the  fruit.  Another  made  the 
same  venture.  He  wanted  more.  Another  tried. 
Then  another.  Till,  at  last,  by  the  end  of,  say, 
faalf  an  hour,  when  ponies  carrying  cow-punch- 
ers came  racing  up  the  main-traveled  road,  there 
down  in  the  bottom  stood  a  row  of  rugged-brown 
backs — Texas  steers,  crunching  sweet,  green 
corn-stalks  and  golden  pumpkins.  Seemingly  no 


42  LIFE   ON   A   FABM 

steer  in  the  world  ever  tasted  anything  so  good. 
They  could  not  hold  from  eating  long  enough 
to  whip  their  tails  at  the  busy  flies  of  Sep- 
tember. 

Mild-eyed  and  conquered.  Their  feet  they 
had  softened  with  water.  Aching  throats  they 
had  wet.  Empty  paunches  they  had  filled  with 
luscious,  emolient  pulp.  The  terrors  of  their 
cattle-car,  its  crowded  space,  its  racking  noise, 
they  had  forgotten.  They  went  off  tamely  at  the 
crack  of  the  cowboys'  whip. 

From  the  Texans'  raid  no  harm  greater  than  a 
caging  in  the  stone  barn  came  to  our  Shorthorns, 
and  loss  of  one  day's  sunshine  on  their  round 
sides. 

V 

Not  one  American  housewife,  probably,  but 
has  longed  for  such  golden  girls  as  Homer  sings, 
those  rolling,  likable  lassies  Hephaestus  forged, 
according  to  accounts  in  the  eighteenth  book  of 
"The  Illiad" — "good  sense,  and  speech,  and 
strength  they  had,  and  crafts  they  learned  from 
the  immortal  gods." 

Just  such  maids  we  craved  at  the  house  my 
Mother  conducted.  Yet  Hephaestus  made  us 
nothing  of  the  sort.  Instead  we  had  manifold 


NEAB  IAUEEL.  TOWN  43 

human  factota  who  hardly  ever  seemed  golden ; 
not  infrequently,  it  is  true,  silvern ;  and  then  at 
times  substantially  brazen. 

The  aunties  were  most  individual — negro  wo- 
men, more  or  less  dark,  gifted  with  legends  and 
faithfulness  of  mammies  of  the  old  days;  in 
every  instance  born  and  bred  in  slavery,  the  sole 
echo  to  us  of  whatever  poetry,  whatever  love, 
devotion  and  human  worth  may  have  lain  in 
that  institution.  Full  of  strength  and  truth  in 
the  great  turns  of  life ;  full  of  beautiful  earnest- 
ness; trustworthy  in  large  events,  what  unac- 
countable perversions  they  sometimes  suffered 
in  the  small ! 

One  "coffee-and-cream",  Spanish-eyed,  little 
body  and  cheery  soul  often  called  to  my  mind 
Homer's  epithet  of  Aethiopians,  blameless.  For 
downright  dependability  Mary  was  golden.  But 
if  verity  were  the  point,  between  what  happened 
and  what  she  fancied  you  never  could  tell. 

One  seventeenth  day  of  March  some  one 
passed  our  windows  wearing  a  sprig  of  green. 
Mother,  seeing  the  shamrock,  exclaimed,  "Mary, 
this  is  St.  Patrick's  day!" 

"Yes'm,  I  know",  answered  Mary,  ready  as 
any  polyhistor,  "I  was  here  when  they  buried 
him". 

"But  Mary",  said  Mater  with  a  smile — 


44  LIFE   ON   A  FARM 

"Oh,  well",  broke  in  Mary  hurriedly,  "if  it 
wasn't  him,  it  was  one  of  his  representatives". 
Then  with  introspective  eyes  and  smiling  mouth, 
as  if  in  mental  enjoyment  of  the  past,  she  added 
her  clincher,  * '  They  had  a  great  time". 

Wish  never  to  fail  to  rise  to  the  occasion,  and 
the  tenacity  of  her  conceptions  came  out  again 
and  again ;  pose  of  the  utterer  of  oracles  is  not 
confined  to  the  learned  alone. 

One  evening,  as  I  entered  Mater's  room  to  has- 
ten Mary's  recreation  hour,  I  pointed  to  the  red 
and  gold  of  the  western  sky  saying,  "What  a 
wonderful  sunset !" 

"Yes'm",  answered  Mary,  turning  her  eyes  so 
the  light  fell  into  their  liquid  depths,  ' '  The  sun 
sets  in  the  north  to-night".  Then  with  grave 
voice  and  solemn  manner,  "It's  a  sure  sign  of 
rain". 

"Why,  Mary",  my  inexperience  answered, 
'  *  the  sun  always  sets  in  the  west." 

"Well,  I've  noticed"*  rejoined  Mhry,  with 
calmness  and  dignity,  her  brown-velvet  hands 
slowly  smoothing  the  tea-tray  cover  and  pulling 
it  even  on  all  four  sides,  "I've  noticed  that 
before  a  storm  the  sun  always  sets  in  the  north." 

To  answer  would  contravene  ex  cathedra 
utterance.  Like  all  dogmatists  Mary  thought 
that  insisting  on  a  thing  made  it  true. 


NEAR   LAUREL   TOWN  45 

The  dear  old  bully  shuffled  off  toward  the 
kitchen,  from  the  distance  coming  her  song : 

"My  soul  is  like  a  new  tin  pan, 
Lord,  grease  it  with  thy  grace; 
And  nib,  and  rub,  and  rub,  dear  Lord, 
Till  I  can  see  thy  face." 

A  son-in-law,  whom  Mary  proudly  described 
as  "professor  on  the  banjo",  used  to  come  to  the 
kitchen-door  days  when  her  pay  was  due  and  ask 
her  for  her  wages — this  ne'er-do-well  taught  her 
words  and  melodies. 

Mary  expressed  other  striking  cosmological 
notions,  stoutly  asserting ' '  the  moon's  a  woman, 
wife  of  the  sun ;  haven't  you  noticed  how  change- 
able she  is?" 

Which  recalls,  if  we  may  wander  so  far,  a 
fancy  of  another  old-time  slave.  Wondering  at 
the  beauty  of  the  world,  and  reasoning  upon  it 
with  all  the  knowledge  his  poor  life  could  mus- 
ter, he  told  me,  with  solemnity  of  countenance 
showing  intellectual  effort  back  of  it,  that  the 
stars  were  knot-holes  and  gimlet-holes  in  the 
floor  of  heaven,  and  their  light  the  glory  of 
paradise  shining  through.  That  their  light  is 
the  glory  of  heaven  shining  through,  none  but 
an  unimaginative  scientist  would  deny. 

Born  to  the  purple  of  a  house-slave  near  New 
Orleans,  Mary  practiced  an  unconscious  snob- 


46  LIFE  ON   A  FARM 

bery — snobbery  is  commonly  unconscious — and 
looked  down  on  field-workers,  such  as  Peter  Vin- 
egar ;  whose  ear  so  loved  a  sonorous  phrase  that 
it  led  him  to  name  his  heir  (the  child  did  not 
long  survive),  Americus  Disgustus  Dapoleon 
Vinegar. 

Of  all  our  aunties,  most  characterful,  I  think 
was  Phyllis,  plumb  full  of  racy  expressions,  a 
natural  narrator,  and  never  tired  telling  her  ex- 
periences, in  slavery  and  out.  Through  it  all, 
her  eyes  had  been  wide  open,  ears  listening, 
judgment  sane.  I  still  see  her  serious,  yellow- 
brown  face,  high  shoulders  covered  with  ging- 
ham of  a  generous  old-time-plantation  cut;  and 
her  brave  hands  freckled  a  deeper  brown,  in 
hours  of  rest  placidly  folded  in  her  ample  lap. 
Such  speaking  hands !  What  work  they  had  done 
for  field,  for  house,  for  pickaninny !  She  was  not 
a  clever,  slender,  golden  girl  of  the  Hephaestean 
type,  but  her  face  and  figure  might  have  served 
as  model  for  a  nineteenth  century  Moroni  or 
Frans  Hals. 

"Yes'm,  I  had  sixteen  children.  My  mother 
had  only  twelve.  But  my  aunt  had  fifty-nine 
grandchildren,  and  eighty-five  great  grandchil- 
dren before  she  died".  Slavery  believed  in 
breeders. 

After  their  shackles  had  fallen,  she  and  her 


NEAR   LAUREL.  TOWN  47 

husband  had  gone  to  that  legendary  country 
once  called  "the  Great  American  Desert".  "But 
dust  and  sand  storms  was  so  bad  we  feared  the 
children  would  lose  their  way  to  school,  and  in 
winter  snow  druv  so  heavy  they  couldn't  go. 
Why,  sometimes  it  was  so  cold  that  fat  hogs 
froze  half  way  down  the  back,  and  we  had  to  kill 
and  ship  'em  on  to  a  Kansas  City  soap  factory. 

"We  kept  warm  by  burning  cornstalks  and 
hay — had  burners  large  enough  to  burn  a  bale  of 
hay,  and  three  bales  lasted  one  day.  What  was 
the  burners  made  of?  Sheet  iron;  and  they  cov- 
ered the  stove  and  burnt  underneath.  We  cooked 
in  the  oven.  Why,  we  ran  mills  two  years  by 
burning  hay,  had  two  men  feeding  all  the  time. 
For  summer  fires  we  used  to  go  to  the  corn  fields 
and  pick  up  a  load  of  stalks. 

"One  thirtieth  of  April  oats  was  in  and  up, 
when  a  hail-storm  came  and  poisoned  the  ground 
— packed  it  so  nothin'  didn't  grow  that  year. 
The  storm)  killed  chickens,  too,  and  sucking 
pigs ;  and  my  son-in-law  went  out  to  Cheyenne 
bottom  and  gathered  a  wagon-load  of  dead  sea- 
gulls and  all  kinds  of  birds ;  sea-gulls  come  be- 
fore a  storm  and  rise  down  and  rise  up  and  fly 
graceful-like". 

Full  of  the  traditions  and  beautiful  lore  of 
folk  who  have  lived  in  and  by  the  field,  ' '  'Taint 


48  LIFE   ON  A  FARM 

no  use  denyin' ",  she  one  day  declared,  "that 
chicken-weed  grows  where  chickens  is,  or  have 
been.  And  you  always  find  mullein  where  sheep 
feed;  and  iron  weed  springs  up  in  a  horse-pas- 
ture. It's  as  true  as  day". 

Aunt  Phyllis  sang  many  a  melody  in  the  vel- 
vet accent  of  her  race — songs  she  had  caught  up 
in  youth  when  one  warehouse  stood  where  Kan- 
sas City  now  stands,  and  "wa'n't  nobody  in 
western  Missouri  but  Mormons  and  Indians". 
The  humor  of  her  songs  forecast  that  of  present- 
day  vaudeville.  One,  possibly  referring  to  the 
company  of  a  packet  plying  between  St.  Louis 
and  Westport,  Aunt  Phyllis  usually  prefaced  by 
proclaiming:  " There's  more  married  now  than's 
getting  along  well" ; 

"Four  score  and  ten  a  verse, 
Not  a  penny  In  a  purse, 
Something  must  be  done  for  us, 
Poor  old  maids! 

We're  all  of  the  Desman  crew, 
Dressed  in  yellow,  pink  and  blue, 
Nursing  cats  is  all  we  do, 
Poor  old  maids! 

To  the  devil  we  do  go, 
The  bachelors  will  be  there,  too, 
Bach  of  us  will  have  a  beau, 
Poor  old  maids !" 


NEAK   LAUREL   TOWN  49 

Another  Westport  song  of  Aunt  Phyllis's  ex- 
horted to  temperance : 

"I  went  down  street  the  other  night, 

And  there  by  the  corner  there  lie  an  old  friend; 

I  spoke  to  him,  but  't  wa'  n't  no  use, 

For  he  knew  no  more  of  me  than  a  goose. 

So,  come  and  jine  our  cold-water  band. 

Come  and  jine  our  cold-water  band, 

And  we'll  unite  hand  in  hand." 


Still  another  referred  to  political  divisions : 

"The  moon  was  shinin'  silver-bright, 
The  stars  with  glory  crowned  the  night, 
High  on  that  limb  that  same  old  coon 
Was  singin'  to  hisself  this  tune; 

Get  out  the  way,  you're  all  unlucky, 
Clear  the  track  for  old  Kentucky; 
Fiery,  southern,  brave  Calhoun, 
Who  beats  the  fox,  and  fears  the  coon; 
Let  that  track  be  dry  or  mucky, 
We'll  clear  the  track  for  old  Kentucky; 
Get  out  the  way,  you're  all  unlucky, 
dear  the  track  for  old  Kentucky." 

Then  Aunt  Phyllis  had  other  verses  worthy 
of  a  Mother  Goose  anthology : 

"De  raccoon  hab  a  ringy  tail, 
De  possum's  tail  is  bare; 
De  rabbit  hab  no  tail  at  all, 
But  a  little  bit  o'  bunch  o'  hair." 


50  LIFE   ON   A   FARM 

"De  possum  and  de  raccoon 
Went  up  de  tree  a-fightin' ; 
De  turkey-hen  she  scratch  so  hard 
De  gobbler  died  a  laughin'." 

"Possum  up  a  gum  stump. 
Raccoon  in  de  hollow; 
Pretty  gal  at  Dinah's  house 
Fat  as  she  can  wallow. 
Possum  shank  a'roastin', 
Wid  de  marow  in  de  bone; 
Pretty  gal  at  Dinah's  house — 
And  Dinah  ain't  to  home." 

"Dey  tie  my  feet,  and  tie  my  hand, 
And  dey  lay  me  down  upon  de  sand; 
De  skeeters  come  and  eat  my  clothes, 
And  bite  my  ears  and  tickle  my  nose; 
Dey  leab  me  dar  till  I  weep  and  moan, 
And  swear  I'll  let  dem  pullets  alone." 


VI 

Answering  a  message  that  our  Mother 
would  welcome  a  strong,  trustworthy  woman  for 
cleaning — Mater  tabooed  the  word  servant  be- 
cause of  its  old  associations  and  the  hostilities 
the  word  engenders — answering  this  call  for  a 
household  orderly,  sent  to  a  tenement  where 
folks  from  Sweden  met,  there  appeared  as  odd  a 
compound  as  you  would  be  apt  to  find  in  all  the 
human  lees  Europe  has  cast  through  Castle  Gar- 
den or  Ellis  Island;  Mary  Peterson,  stunted  in 


NEAR  LAUREL  TOWN  51 

stature,  a  trifle  bent  in  shoulders,  as  thirty-six- 
years-old  workers  we  Americans  import  are  apt 
to  be,  but  having  a  skin  texured  and  colored  like 
a  blush  rose,  hair  as  fine  as  floss-silk  and  of  the 
dye  of  gold,  eyes  small,  deep-set,  a  tip-tilted 
nose  and  a  protruding  chin;  such  countenance 
as  legend  has  given  witches  and  other  psychically 
abnormal  creatures. 

A  strange  and  picturesque  vision !  Yet,  in  the 
analysis  of  practical,  Kansas  sunlight,  winning ; 
perhaps  by  a  broad  kindliness,  even  if  somewhat 
of  the  elf,  somewhat  of  the  fool,  somewhat  of  the 
seeress  shone  in  the  face. 

Mother  engaged  her  at  once.  Smiling  she 
turned  and  trudged  off  to  town  for  her  clothes, 
later  setting  forth  these  riches — underwear  of 
the  thickest  linen  we  had  ever  seen,  heavy,  wool- 
en stockings,  skirts  woven  of  wool  wadded  in  so 
firmly  that  it  made  the  cloth  clumsy  and  stiff. 

But  under  those  terrible  wearables  such  a  will- 
ing heart !  Mater  held  her  back  a  day  or  two  till 
she  had  clad  her  in  light  cottons  fitting  our 
climate,  and  then  the  new  recruit  fell  to  her 
adept's  scouring  and  cleaning.  Learning  our 
language  after  her  own  methods,  she  would 
point  to  some  object  and  ask,  "Dis?"  And  when 
one  answered,  for  instance,  "tongs",  or  "table", 
she  would  go  on  with  her  work,  repeating  to 


52  LIFE   ON"   A   FARM 

herself  "tongs/,  "table",  till  she  had  driven  a 
furrow  through  her  brain  and  planted  the  word 
in  it. 

To  distinguish  her  from  a  household-helper 
already  established,  she  must  have  another  name 
than  Mary.  "Venus",  we  children  wickedly  in- 
sisted. But  when  Mater  explained  the  difficulty 
of  having  two  Marys  in  one  house,  and  asked  the 
new  comer's  wishes,  suggesting  Peterkin,  or 
Peter,  for  her  special  ownership,  she  delightedly 
said  either  would  be  right ;  and  Peter  and  Peter- 
kin  she  was  through  all  remaining  time. 

Eighteen  years,  off  and  on,  she  stayed  with 
us.  Truth  compels  "off  and  on".  She  had  an  ad- 
venturous head,  possibly  you  might  say  she  had 
intellectual  curiosity  working  behind  the  weird, 
elfin  light  that  shone  in  her  eyes.  Recurrently, 
after  a  year  or  two  of  domestic  ease  and  rou- 
tine a  wanderlust  would  seize  her  and  she  must 
off  to  some  town  whose  name  had  struck  her 
fancy.  A  f e*w  months  never  failed  to  bring  her 
repentant  to  the  door,  begging  to  be  taken  back, 
averring  "no  place  so  good  as  dis". 

Among  the  Swedes  who  came  over  about  her 
time,  she  soon  got  a  reputation  for  riches.  What 
her  thrift  saved,  and  it  was  much  of  her  earn- 
ings, she  turned  into  twenty  dollar  gold  pieces; 
which  she  hastened  to  lay  in  crevices  of  her  bed- 


NEAB  IAUEEL  TOWN  53 

stead.  This  method  of  banking  seemed  so  facile 
and  clever  that  she  confided  her  device  to  the 
cook,  whom  the  hand  of  the  Lord  has  stained 
ebon.  Then,  a  few  days  after,  she  cried  out  that 
she  had  lost  an  eagle.  A  wave  of  war  rolled  one 
minute  from  the  kitchen. 

When  Mater  heard  of  the  safe-deposit,  and  of 
the  confidences,  she  told  Peterkin  she  must  lock 
up  her  treasures  and  herself  keep  the  key.  So 
Peter  bought  a  trunk  pasted  over  with  yellow- 
brown  paper  and  rimmed  with  sheet  iron.  But 
it  had  the  dignity  and  individuality  of  a  lock, 
and  delighted  her  simple  soul  beyond  telling. 

Still,  riches  engender  sorrow.  No  surcease 
has  ever  come  to  that  law;  older  even  than  the 
days  of  Solomon.  Nor  did  it  fail  now  in  Peter's 
experience.  Her  savings,  not  her  many  virtues, 
brought  suitors.  Stolid  owedes,  whom  she  met 
at  her  country-people's  houses,  where  on  Sun- 
days she  sought  social  refreshment — gruff, 
silent,  sour-visaged  fellows  they  looked  as  they 
shuffled  towards  our  house,  came  courting. 

In  their  first  visit,  say  on  a  rainy  Sunday 
afternoon,  they  evinced  their  interest  and  con- 
fidence in  her,  Peter  afterwards  told  us,  by 
subtly  suggesting  that  her  years  warranted  a 
home  of  her  own.  What  female  of  the  human 
species  could  withstand  such  a  hint!  At  their 


54  LIFE  ON   A  FARM 

second  coming,  say  a  short  call  in  a  week-day 
afternoon,  they  broached  the  subject  of  mar- 
riage. On  the  third  they  completed  their  pro- 
posal, and  asked  the  loan  of  a  gold-piece,  or  two. 

Peterkin's  weird  eyes  could  not  see  the  mean- 
ing of  it,  and  through  several  years  vari-colored 
scoundrels  played  with  her  earnings;  not  to 
speak  of  her  affections. 

At  last  appeared  the  slickest  of  them  all — 
more  refined  than  the  others  in  looks,  with  bet- 
ter clothing,  better  shoe-leather,  longish  hair 
and  a  weary,  sickly,  dissatisfied  face.  "Bottin- 
son"  paid  his  sweetheart  many  visits,  and 
wheedled  her  out  of  several  hundred  dollars  be- 
fore he  went  away  and  never  came  back. 

Bottinson  had  finesse.  With  his  fading  into 
the  unexplorable  ended  Peter's  faith  and  trust 
in  legal  tenders  for  men.  They  had  hurt  her 
terribly.  But  she  was  game,  poor,  brave  soul! 
— and  when  speaking  to  those  who  had  known 
her  history,  and  theirs,  she  was  never  quite  done 
joking  over  their  lies,  and  how  slily  they  had 
mulcted  her  purse. 

Yet,  Bottinson's  desertion  was  nothing  to 
what  another  day  brought.  A  norther  blew 
bleakly,  fine-pelleted  snow  fell,  but  Peter  flung 
herself  upon  a  wood-pile  and  lay  on  its  rough 
edges  far  into  the  dark,  refusing  all  body- 


NEAR   LA.UBEL   TOWN  55 

nourishment  and  soul-comfort,  conscious  only 
of  despair. 

Back  in  Sweden  she  had  left  a  father,  sister 
and  brother  living  together  in  the  little  cottage 
they  owned.  Possibly  all  the  family  were 
afflicted  with  Peterkin's  mental  queernesses. 
At  any  rate  that  winter-day  in  Kansas,  letters 
and  papers  came  telling  how  her  sister  had  one 
night  made  milk-porridge  for  father  and 
brother,  and  in  the  porridge  had  boiled  matches. 
The  two  men,  tired  and  hungry  from  work  in 
excessive  frosts,  ate  a  hearty  supper.  Both 
died  before  morning. 

Their  bodies  were  laid  in  such  graves  as  the 
country-folk  in  Sweden  prepare  during  summer 
for  possible  needs  when  frosts  harden  the 
ground.  The  sister  dwelt  alone.  Yet  not  alone. 
The  conscience  of  her  soul  awoke.  Her  father 
stood  before  her  and  told  her  of  her  sin.  She 
could  not  withstand  the  accusing  spirit.  In  a 
fortnight  she  set  out  for  town  to  make  known 
how  she  had  coveted  ownership  so  far  as  to  kill 
her  men-folks  to  whom  the  law  gave  the  little 
house  and  land.  A  judge  took  testimony  re- 
ferring to  the  strength  of  her  mind,  and  finally 
confined  her  for  life  in  the  city,  confiscating  her 
freehold  to  the  crown. 

Out  in  a  Kansas  blizzard  the  old  story  of 


56  LIFE  ON  A  FABM 

crime  not  striking  the  criminal  alone  was  enact- 
ing. Innocent  Peterkin,  thousands  of  miles 
from  the  tragedy,  sat  in  the  numbing  cold, 
wringing  her  hands  and  now  and  then  uttering 
cries  like  a  wounded  animal's,  paralyzed  by  grief 
and  shame.  Her  father  and  brother  dead  I — 
and  dead  in  a  way  that  blood  of  hers  befouled 
itself! 

In  her  agony  dreams  of  paying  a  visit  to 
Sweden  and  carrying  help  to  the  old  home  van- 
ished. Ever  after  Sweden  was  to  her  a  for- 
bidden name,  and  forbidden  land.  American 
she  wanted  to  become;  in  many  ways  did 
become.  Even  the  white  light  of  her  birthland 
faded  from  her  face ;  in  course  of  years  her  skin 
tanned  to  a  brown,  and  the  exquisite  gold  of  her 
hair  turned  to  ash  shades. 

Peterkin  had  characteristics  we  Americans 
admire  in  the  land-folks  of  northern  Europe. 
She  had  simple,  direct  honesty.  She  had  self- 
retraint.  Considerations  of  others*  rights  and 
needs  had  socialized  her.  She  was  conscious 
of,  and  felt  pride  in  maintaining  her  self-re- 
liance ;  pride,  also,  in  doing  her  work  finely  and 
with  great  cleanliness.  Consequently  she  had 
severity  of  bearing — any  human  may  easily  be 
good-natured  if  he  has  nothing  to  do  but  be 
good-natured ;  if  he  has  no  ideal  to  serve.  Hon- 


NEAB  LAUREL  TOWN  57 

esty,  self -reliance,  cleanliness  and  even  severity 
— all  were  in  keeping  with  her  simple,  cool,  ra- 
tionally tinctured  religious  -phases. 

Perhaps  ancestral-seeress  proclivities  got  hold 
of  her  after  we  left  Laurel  Town.  At  any  rate 
she  passed  to  the  emotionalism  of  the  Salvation 
Army.  Her  zeal  to  labor  for  her  new  friend 
led  to  her  hawking  about  the  War  Cry.  Or 
perhaps  the  Army  set  her  the  task,  recognizing 
the  quaintness  of  her  face  and  figure  and  her 
ready  tongue. 

A  favorite  song  of  hers  in  her  unregenerate 
days  she  would  begin  with 

"Shoo,  fly! 
Bod-der  me!" 

This  now  gave  way  to  another  evolved  in  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  barracks,  leastwise  a  favorite 

at  that  time; 

"There  are  no  Hies  on  you ; 
There  are  no  flies  on  me ; 
There  are  no  flies — " 

the  song  went  on,  citing  the  Religious  Example ; 
triumphantly  concluding  with, 

"So  far  as  we  can  see." 

Begging  she  learned  to  benefit  others.  The 
habit  remained  when  her  fervor  for  the  Army 
cooled.  At  last  we  heard  that  she  was  meeting 


58  LIFE   ON   A  FARM 

people  of  a  morning  with  "Gi'e  a  penny  I"  As- 
tonishing!— and  yet  one  vagary  of  a  life  of 
mental  wanderings. 

Society  and  Peterkin  were  now  at  variance. 
Indeed  society  had  never  understood  Peter. 
Doubtless  society  did  not  understand  those  old 
seeresses  who  were  her  ancestors.  But  society 
did  not  longer  uphold  Peter.  Nor  did  Peter 
uphold  society.  The  lonely,  old  soul  knew  she 
was  down  and  out.  But  she  kept  a  room  for 
herself,  to  which  she  took  wood  she  gathered, 
and  garments  given  in  charity ;  till,  finally,  under 
an  August  sun  she  fell  unconscious  in  an  alley. 

A  singular  compound!  Faithful  as  a  dog, 
and  yet  at  times  treacherous;  perhaps  the 
treachery  developed  when  her  mental  weak- 
nesses recurred.  Keenly  honest  in  her  dealings, 
and  repeatedly  the  dupe  of  thieves  and  their 
absurd  pretences.  Proud  of  herself  and  her 
good  name,  yet  at  last  a  daily  beggar.  Kindly, 
quaint,  independent,  joying  in  life  with  a  very 
genuine  joy.  A  child  of  old  northmen,  and, 
still  more  clearly,  old  northwomen. 

VII 

Those  I  have  here  bespoken  the  amplitude  of 
our  farm  next  Laurel  Town  embraced.  Natu- 


NEAR   LAUREL   TOWN  59 

rally  we  had  neighbors  not  of  the  farm,  the 
greater  number  known  as  "mud-floor  Missou- 
rians,"  natives  of  the  richly  gifted  state  to  the 
east,  who  retained  such  liking  for  their  old 
habits  that,  report  said,  no  matter  how  roomy 
the  house  their  affluence  had  come  to  afford,  they 
loved  best  to  live  so  that  their  bare  feet  might 
press  the  maternal  soil. 

Such  tales  seemed  to  us  very  curious.  Also 
doubtful.  Experience  confirmed  the  truth  of 
at  least  one. 

I  dropped  a  rain-coat  from  the  phaeton,  and 
having  heard  that  the  family  of  a  large  brick 
house  hard  by  had  picked  it  up,  I  went  to  their 
front  door  and  rang  the  bell.  In  vain.  But  I 
so  wanted  to  get  back  my  coat  that  I  walked 
toward  the  rear  of  the  house  seeking  another  en- 
trance. A  pair  of  dogs  sallied  from  the  elms' 
shade.  Their  bark  brought  to  a  cellar  door 
the  tall,  bare-footed,  Indian-featured  mistress 
of  the  manse.  Behind  her  opened  a  large 
room,  seemingly  serving  as  kitchen  and  living- 
room,  all  comfortably  floored  with  Mother 
Earth. 

When  I  told  my  errand,  the  dame  handed  me 
the  coat,  accepted  my  thanks  with  a  nod  of  the 
head,  and  said,  "We  knew  the  cloak  was  you- 
all's  'cause  nobody  hyerabouts  has  one  like  it. 


60  LIFE   ON   A   FARM 

But  we  thought  we'd  keep  it  till  you-all  come  for 
it." 

Missourians  living  in  Kansas  still  retained 
no  little  of  the  hatred  they  inherited  from  days* 
when  Kansas  was  the  storm  centre  of  national 
politics,  and  her  history  a  fore-scene  of  the  Civil 
War.  They  held  themselves  far  from  associa- 
tion with  what  their  ginger  speech  called  "the 
damned  Yankees." 

From  their  point  of  view,  seemingly,  those 
born  in  Missouri  reached  on  birth  the  summit 
of  earthly  excellence  and  glory.  The  same  sort 
of  self-gratulation  I  have  since  heard  in  others 
— for  instance,  among  people  born  in  Boston,  or 
its  neighbor  Cambridge.  To  live  in  a  place  con- 
secrated by  noble  deeds  is  a  great  thing.  But 
somehow  our  human  minds  can  not  help  asking 
if  such  deeds  should  not  quicken  to  like  perform- 
ance, not  to  self-complacent  vaunting,  passivity 
of  the  closed  mind  and  folded  hand,  silly  critic- 
ism of,  or  weak  hostilities  towards  those  born, 

*"It  is  evident  that  the  time  to  try  men's  soul's  has  now 
come  In  Kansas.  The  villains  who  .have  gonft  there  from 
Missouri,  with  clubs,  bowie-knives  and  revolvers,  to  over- 
ride the  genuine  settlers,  and  establish  slavery  at  whatever 
cost,  must  now  be  met  detennindly."  Herald  of  Freedom, 
Lawrence,  Wednesday,  June  9,  1855. 

"No  week  has  ever  passed  without  .  .  .  insult  and  con- 
tumely thrown  at  our  people  by  our  nearest  neighbors,  the 
Missourians,"  wrote  the  author  of  "Six  Months  in  Kansas," 
In  November,  1855. 


NEAR   LAUREL,   TOWN  61 

or  living,  elsewhere.  After  all,  through  the  cen- 
turies human  nature  has  changed  little — assump- 
tion of  superiority,  even  of  moral  superiority, 
based  on  place  of  birth  did  not  die  out  of  the 
world  when  dwellers  of  cities  famed  and  opulent 
aligned  against  people  from  a  little  town  called 
Nazareth. 

Another  of  our  neighbors  stood  as  far  as  the 
east  from  the  west  from  the  Missouri  exclusives. 

"With  a  porch  at  his  door  both  for  shelter  and  shade  too, 

As  the  sunshine  or  rain  may  prevail; 
And  a  small  spot  of  ground  for  the  use  of  the  spade  too, 

With  a  barn  for  the  use  of  the  flail," 

Dr.  Hartmann,  a  German  physician  educated  in 
Austria,  now  a  trifle  weary  of  a  busy  world, 
sought  retirement. 

Traditions  of  gay  Vienna,  however,  its 
' '  dolled-up"  women,  its  wine,  its  song,  spectred 
his  life,  and  when  handsome  girls  came  visiting 
us,  the  Doctor  would  sometimes  invite  us  to  an 
afternoon  hour  at  his  house. 

Smiling,  evidently  gratified  at  our  coming, 
he  would  welcome  us  at  the  front  of  his  vine- 
covered  porch. 

As  for  us,  we  were  like  a  flock  of  wrens,  or 
blue-birds,  chattering  about  the  flowers,  trees 
and  what-not  till  we  found  Kladderadatsch, 
Fliegende  Blatter  and  other  illustrated  German 


62  LIFE  ON  A  FABM 

papers  lying  on  tables  of  the  veranda.  Then, 
before  we  were  fairly  settled,  the  housekeeper 
would  appear  bringing  German  kuchen  heaped 
on  a  plate,  and  German  linen  napkins  about  a 
yard  square  that  we  would  half  unfold  and  make 
do  for  plate  and  serviette. 

At  this  juncture  the  Doctor,  delighting  in  his 
hostship,  would  set  forth  a  bottle  of  wine,  wine 
he  himself-  had  made  fromi  his  own  grapes:. 
There  was  the  vineyard,  he  would  point  it  out, 
not  far  from  the  porch.  Of  a  beautiful  claret 
color  and  sour,  the  wine  saved  little  of  the 
grapes'  aroma ;  yet  it  was  the  real  Bacchic  in- 
heritance, the  way  our  ancestors,  through  thou- 
sands of  years,  kept  fruit-acids  for  their  winter 
health. 

The  Doctor,  reaching  a  bottle  towards  our 
glasses,  would  meet  our  protest,  "  Just  a  spoon- 
ful, Doctor,  to  taste  your  vintage ;  you  know  we 
don't  drink  wine,"  and  some  teasing  tale  we  had 
at  hand,  say  a  primitive  legend  from  "Al- 
Mustatraf ;" 

"In  the  first  days  of  the  world,  after  Adam 
had  planted  the  grapevine,  Iblis  (Satan,  that  is, 
may  he  be  cursed!)  sacrificed  over  it  a  peacock. 

"And  the  vine  absorbed  its  blood. 

' '  Soon  the  leaves  opened  out,  when  Iblis,  ever 
busy,  offered  up  a  monkey. 


NEAR  LAUREL   TOWN  63 

» 

"The  vine  drank  the  blood. 

"Later  when  the  plant  put  forth  its  clusters, 
the  Evil  One  led  to  it  a  lion  for  oblation. 

"And  the  vine  took  up  its  blood. 

"Then,  at  last,  after  the  clusters  ripened, 
Iblis  drew  near  a  swine  and  made  sacrifice. 

"The  swine's  blood  the  vine  also  drank. 

1  *  So  now  it  is  that  he  who  drinketh  of  wine  is 
first  thrilled  with  the  proud  walk  and  parade  of 
the  peacock.  Then,  after  a  little,  he  becomes  as 
gay  and  playful  as  a  monkey.  Later  on  the 
strength  of  the  wine  mounting,  he  grows  wild 
and  fierce,  even  as  the  form  of  a  lion.  And 
finally  overcome,  he  falls  and  wallows  in  the 
mire  as  swine  do,  and  sleeps  unknowing  mock- 
ery and  derision." 

"A  very  bad  story!"  the  Doctor  would  assure 
us,  and  fall  to  regaling  us  with  tales  of  European 
wine-presses,  and  of  the  great  health  and  long 
life  of  drinkers  of  bottled-sunshine ;  after  a  time 
seizing  a  decanter. 

"No,  no,  thank  you,  Doctor,  no  more,  no 
more.  You  must  send  speciments  of  your  wine 
to  your  old  home  and  win  fame  for  it." 

"Now,  my  dear  young  lady,"  the  Doctor 
would  answer,  still  smiling  and  turning  his  head 
slightly  on  one  side,  gradually  tipping  the 
bottle;  "Vy  not?  Ein  man  does  not  valk  on 


64  LIFE   ON   A  FARM 

vun  leg.  Does  he  now?" — fastening  us  with  his 
eye,  but  all  the  while  pouring  wine  in  our  various 
glasses.  "Tell  me,  does  ein  man  valk  on  vun 
leg?  You  say  you  vill  valk  home.  Veil,  no  vun 
can  valk  on  vun  glass  vine;  immer  zwei.  Und 
noch  eins,  a  cane  you  know."  And  hy  that  time 
he  would  have  brimmed  our  cups. 

The  real  German  Gemuthlichkeit,  you  see.  Its 
impressive  Allgemeinheit  drove  me  one  day  even 
to  by-singing  the  great  Goethe : 

Kennst  du  das  Landf — wo  die  Lebkuchen  Wilh'n, 
Hit  dunJclem  Bier  die  Jcilhlen  Steine  gluh'n, 
Ein  sanfter  Wind  vom  grtinen  Garten  weht, 
Pfannkuchen  riecht,  und  hoch  Wurst-suppe  ftehtt 
Kennst  du  das  Landf 

The  Doctor,  a  bachelor  many  years,  later  on 
married  a  tiny,  sweet-faced  German  widow. 
From  the  beginning  she  looked  thoroughly  sub- 
dued— recalling  to  my  mind  a  sentiment  about 
his  wife  from  the  Memoirs  of  an  old  New  Eng- 
land preacher,  somewhat  known  about  Boston 
for  his  bullyragging ;  * '  She  was  a  woman  of  in- 
comparable meekness,  towards  myselfe  espe- 
cially." 

The  Doctor  married.  Yea;  but  his  bachelor 
habits  of  issuing  sultanic  orders  persisted;  and 
the  sequent  life  of  himself  and  the  winsome,  wee 
lady  did  not  brim  with  joy.  At  last  the  wife 


NEAR  LAUREL  TOWN  65 

left  their  domicile ;  and  she,  and  the  Doctor  also, 
sought  lawyers  and  begged  for  divorce  proceed- 
ings. 

Making  ready  to  go  before  the  court,  their 
legal  men  one  morning  found  a  meeting  neces- 
sary, and  each  by  chance  had  his  client  with  him. 
The  lady  and  her  husband  were  therefore  in  ad- 
joining rooms.  Each  knew  the  other's  nearness. 

A  clerk  passing  from  one  room  to  the  other 
carelessly  left  the  door  open.  Defendant  and 
plaintiff  sat  facing  each  other. 

Moved  by  the  sad  figure  opposite — wondering 
perhaps  who  had  carried  in  his  coffee  and  rolls 
that  morning — the  little  plaintiff,  her  love  again 
aflame,  sprang  from  her  chair  crying;  Mein 
Mann!  Mein  Mann!  and  flying  with  outstretched 
arms  towards  the  doorway. 

Meine  Frau!  Meine  Frau!  returned  the  de- 
fendant, his  heart  full  of  a  sentiment  he  could 
not  uproot,  and  rushing  through  the  entrance  to 
the  second  room. 

Their  impact  told  the  lawyers  that  the  case 
of  Hartmann  vs.  Hartmann  must  forthwith  be 
taken  from  the  docket.  Nothing  remained  for 
the  legal  men  but  to  felicitate  the  couple  upon 
the  settlement  of  their  grievances,  and  wish 
their  household  unbroken  happiness  for  all  the 
years  to  come. 


CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT  IN 
LAUREL  TOWN 


THE  LITTLE  CITY  OF  THE  QHOSTLY  HEART 

A  little  city,  a  meet  human  nest, 
Lies  snug  on  teeming  lands  of  Central  West; 
Its  houses,  broadly  parked  with  neighbors',  stand 
Mid  shrub  and  blossom,  in  a  friendly  band; 
And  midst  bird-haunted  maples,  trees  so  tall 
They  seem  like  rows  of  pillars,  or  a  wall 
To  lift  the  wide  and  open,  sparkUng  sky 
By  winter's  sun-dogs,  or  July's  red  eye. 

Such  to  a  stranger's  sense  this  city  seemsj 

And  so  to  youthful  students,  when  with  dreamt 

And  hopes  of  gaining  fruits  of  ages  long — 

A  self-reliant,  heart-high,  eager  throng — 

They  swarm  in  dwelling,  lecture-room  and  street, 

And  seize  to-day,  yet  would  to-morrow  greet. 

Democracy  triumphant!  For  the  state 

Set  on  this  city's  height  learning  elate, 

Its  university — its  trained,  strong  arm 

Stretched  forth  to  succor,  brain  and  heart  to  warm, 

Exalt  the  people's  life  and  make  for  right 

Through  all  fust  works,  and  days  of  lucent  light. 

80  does  the  little  town  in  beauty  rest; 

A  fellowship  building  an  ideal  best; 

A  gem  on  the  telluric  cloak  of  God; 

A  wind-flower  rising  from  its  blue-grass  sod. 

But  ever  in  this  city's  ways  and  shade 
There  moves  another  band. 

All  unafraid 

From  moss-soft  mounds  under  broad  oaks  they  come — 
Where  blue-bird,  thrush  and  squirrel  make  their  "home— 
And  through  the  busy  town  they  wander  far, 
These  souls  without  the  grosser  body's  wear; 
And  pass  on  restless,  driven  by  the  fire 
That  burns  in  spirits  who  for  others  aspire. 


For  their  young  manhood  lay  in  that  far  day 

When  folk  "went  west"  to  work,  and  fight,  and  pray; 

When  men  embodied  ancient  English  zeal 

For  each  man's  right — the  Puritan  commonweal; 

The  Puritan  intensity  of  soul, 

Visions  millennial,  a  neio  race  to  mould, 

These  Anglo-Saxon  state-makers  then  sought, 

And  for  their  building  their  race-ideals  brought. 

To  blaze  a  way,  to  make  a  trail,  to  plough, 
To  plant,  to  build  a  city — never  Now 
But  ever  toward  the  Future  urged  their  will; 
And  ever  toward  the  future  look  they  still. 

O  city  of  these  future-yearning  hearts! 

O  leaf -clad  town  where  youths1  years  now  do  lie! 

Thou  hast  in  keeping  many  mounds  of  earth, 

And  only  those  who  know  not  pass  them  "by ; 

And  misty  "beings  ever  go  thy  ways, 

And  tetl  of  years  agone,  and  sing  God's  praise. 

They  gave  themselves  and  stablished  here  their  home — 
These  ghostly  men  and  icomen — and  they  come 
To  watch  right  gain  through  fibre-strengthening  strife; 
They  are  this  city's  very  heart  and  life. 

First  soldiers  buoyantly;  then  in  between 
Their  Colonel  marches  with  a  laughing  mien; 
The  Minister  whose  sermons  counted  far — 
But  more  his  deeds  among  his  people  were; 
A  Governor  with  territorial  tales 
Of  how  he  doicned  age-old,  pro-slavery  wails; 
A  Judge,  whose  violet  eyes  still  shade  with  pain 
His  sentence — lest  it  fail  the  offenders  gain; 
The  Secretary  who  served  Lincoln  when  he  died; 
The  Naturalist,  whose  saurian  was  his  pride; 
Professor  "Rob"  joking  in  Latin  speech; 
And  gentle  he,  "Lord"  D.,  who  smiled  on  each; 

69 


Hearth-builders,  too,  with  honor  signs  aloft — 
The  trowel,  straight-edge,  plummet  of  their  craft; 

These,  and  still  other  souls,  inebriate 
Of  labor  and  of  planting  seeds  of  state; 

And  with  them  constant  wives  in  even  pace. 
Their  homesick  tears  wetting  a  smiling  face. 

8oil-delvers,  also,  milkers  of  the  kine, 
Planters  of  orchards  and  the  fruitful  vine; 
Their  hair  dishevelled,  feet  oftentimes  splayed, 
Hands  brown  and  horny,  and  their  forms  arrayed 
In  dress  ill-fit  and  faded — still  they  go 
With  eyes  reaping  the  future  and  aglow. 

As  when  June  winds  drive  from  the  southern  seas, 
And  strike  the  wan  primroses'  fragile  ease, 
And  each  small  bloom  dips  to  its  mellow  soil, 
Yet  rises,  ghost-like,  after  the  gust's  toil; 
So  this  white  folk,  this  city's  heart  and  soul, 
Bway  with  a  new  day's  zeal,  a  new  time's  ton, 
And  yet  pass  ever  singing  old-times'  joy  and  dole. 

"Had  we  not  fought  defeat,  and  woe  and  death, 
Our  haunts  would  hardly  house  your  calmer  breath; 
To  serve  the  truth,  to  see  that  justice  guides, 
That  all  are  free,  that  equity  abides — 
Had  we  not  fought  for  this  with  all  our  powers, 
You  here  could  build  no  safer  life  than  ours; 
To  make  our  word  incarnate  in  our  deed, 
This  was  our  offering,  and  our  highest  meed" 

Such  are  this  city's  heart.    They  realized 
Ideals  for  which  the  human  spirit  cried 
In  swelling  notes  of  Milton's  sacred  .song; 
In  Shelley's  verse  to  right  the  whole  world's  wrong; 
In  Arnold's  ringing  cry  pressing  to  call 
"Hail  to  the  victors  lying  by  the  watt!" 

70 


'So  thou,  O  little  town,  thou  purse  of  gold— 
Beyond  the  price  of  ail  that's  bought  and  sold— 
Thou  haunt  of  ghostly  lives  firm,  free  and  bold; 
Thou  dutettinff,  too,  of  lives  bright,  young,  untold; 
Thou  art  o  Land  of  Futures,  place  apart — 
.4  little  city  Of  State-building  Hearts. 


71 


CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT  IN  LAUREL 
TOWN 


How  the  attractiveness  of  Laurel  Town,  its 
natural  beauty,  its  people,  the  state's  young  uni- 
versity, led  my  Father  to  purchase  land  for  a 
home  adjoining  the  city,  I  have  told  in  fore- 
going pages. 

It  was  not  then  a  town  of  the  soft,  quiet 
beauty  of  nowadays,  but  more  rugged,  more 
individual,  possibly  closer  to  the  heart  of  things. 
Suffering  even  to  martyrdom  before  and  during 
the  Civil  War  had  graved  its  face  with  startling 
emphasis ;  it  was  a  little  city  with  its  own  physi- 
ognomy. 

North  and  south  had  sent  together  its  people : 
southerners  marked  with  strong  personal  senti- 
ment, an  unvarying  consciousness  of  self,  and  a 
social  view  that  sometimes  suggested  the  eight- 
eenth century  we  find  in  English  books;  the 

73 


74  CERTAIN  WHO  BWEL.T 

New  England  element,  on  the  other  hand,  hav- 
ing its  inevitable  simplicity  and  directness. 
New  England  blood  predominated,  and  espe- 
cially affiliated  with  that  from  Ohio,  Illinois  and 
other  western  states  and  one  or  two  generations 
removed  from  the  Atlantic  slope.  New  England 
characteristics  were  in  the  fore. 

Therefore,  to  sketch  the  folks  of  Laurel  Town 
as  a  body  of  nnity  and  like  color  would  not  be 
true.  The  community  was  too  newly  gathered, 
too  unlike  in  its  elements,  too  nerve-fatigued  by 
horrors  of  war;  it  was  not  yet  closely  enough 
knit  by  continuity  of  interests  to  have  a  general 
social  spirit.  Academic  life  which  now  stamps 
the  town  had  not  evolved.  The  university  was 
a  small  institution  struggling  with  legislature 
after  legislature  for  its  very  breath,  and  with  no 
appreciable  influence  on  the  social  will.  Still, 
even  then  Laurel  Town  was  what  a  professor  of 
Harvard  University  twenty  years  after  told  me 
he  found  it;  "A  New  England  town  set  in  a 
western  environment." 

After  our  flight  from  the  east,  and  we  were 
established  on  the  farm,  those  with  whom  Pater 
already  had  acquaintance,  through  his  open-air- 
seeking  life  and  rides  about  Laurel  Town,  paid 
our  Mother  formal  visits.  We  came  to  know 
delightful  people. 


IN   LAUREL.  TOWN  75 

First,  the  family  of  Judge  Welch  of  Litch- 
field,  Connecticut.  Mrs.  Welsh  had  great  taste 
for  sociabilities,  and  after  the  habit  of  those 
times  now  and  then  entertained  our  family  at 
tea;  not  our  present  four  o'clock  brew  with 
sliced  lemon  and  wafer,  but  the  last  hearty  meal 
of  the  day.  Her  hospitality  pictures  itself  be- 
fore me  yet — her  table  spread  with  damask 
linen  hanging  low,  set  about  with  cold  meats, 
sour  conserves,  biscuits  hot  and  steaming 
through  a  doily,  and  invariably  at  one  side  the 
cover  cakes,  and  a  tall,  broad  glass  dish  holding 
boiled  custard  flavored  with  bitter  almond  and 
flecked  with  white  of  egg  beaten  to  a  snow  and 
centring  flakes  of  currant  jelly. 

The  hostess  herself  sat  behind  a  shining 
silver  tea  service.  A  lucid  memory  and  love  of 
anecdotes  made  her  the  life  of  the  party,  her 
dark  eyes  sparkling  as  she  related  some  tale  of 
"Uncle  Nott,"  a  characterful  president  of  Union 
College,  or  traditions  of  such  ancestors  as 
Philip  van  Schuyler  who,  about  1650,  settled  in 
Eensselaerwyck ;  of  Anneke  Jans,  whose  farm 
then  lay  in  contest  between  Trinity  Church  of 
New  York  and  her  descendants ;  of  Mary  Dyer, 
last  martyr  of  religious  liberty  for  the  Quakers 
on  Boston  Common  in  1660. 

At  one  of  these  teas  our  hostess  told  a  story 


76  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

which  still  lingers  in  my  memory : — How,  when 
a  little  girl  and  visiting  relatives  in  Albany,  she 
was  dining  with  Mrs.  Alexander  Hamilton.  An 
elderly  man  entered  the  hotel's  dining  room.  A 
waiter  gave  him  a  chair  at  the  table  where  Mrs. 
Hamilton  and  her  youthful  guest  were  sitting. 
At  once  Mrs.  Hamilton's  face  became  white,  and 
she  seemed  deeply  affected.  Her  discomposure 
told  the  steward  of  the  contretemps  and  he 
changed  to  another  table  the  late  comer — Aaron 
Burr  who,  twenty-six  years  before,  had  shot 
Alexander  Hamilton  on  the  heights  of  Wee- 
hawken. 

In  those  early  summers  of  our  farm-life  near 
Laurel  Town,  the  ladies  calling  on  Mater  com- 
monly came  in  strict  formality,  as  I  said,  and 
without  the  men  of  their  family.  They  drove 
out  in  hacks,  if  they  had  not  their  own  convey- 
ance, and  oftenest  were  clad  in  light-colored 
silks,  soft  greys,  blues,  greens  and  lavenders, 
the  skirts  full,  reaching  the  ground  and  giving 
an  affect  of  the  wearers  floating.  We  were  past 
the  hoop-skirt  era.  But  the  idea  which  brought 
the  hoop-skirt  forward  still  survived — the  idea 
that  skirts  are  to  conceal  and  let  escape  no  sug- 
gestion of  women's  nether  extremities ;  not  even 
the  line  of  the  knee  to  show.  For  a  woman's 
dress  to  hint  that  the  wearer  had  legs  was,  in 


IN   LATJEEL,  TOWN  77 

that  mid- Victorian*  day,  immodest;  and  some 
went  too  far  as  to  say  no  trace  of  a  foot  should 
be  seen. 

In  summer,  diaphanous  llama-lace  shawls, 
white  or  black,  pinned  to  the  dress  at  the  should- 
ers, half  covered  the  gowns  of  these  ladies ;  and 
in  colder  weather,  velvet  cloaks  and  paisley 
shawls.  Light  colored  kid  gloved  their  hands, 
and  in  the  left  they  almost  always  carried,  to- 
gether with  a  lace-edged  handkerchief,  a  card- 
case  of  mother-of-pearl,  or  ivory,  or  silver. 
Above  their  fine-spirited  faces  they  wore  filmy 
patches  they  called  bonnets — betwitching  apolo- 
gies for  the  head-covering  that  Paul,  still  some- 
what retentive  of  the  Pharisee,  demanded  of 
women  of  unregenerate  Corinth. 

How  differently  we  pay  our  visits  nowadays ; 
we  of  the  serge  or  broadcloth  suit,  with  a  bona- 
fide  hat  on  our  heads!  The  Time-Spirit  has 
wrought  changes  for  women — the  word  women 
tells  the  whole  story.  We  are  women;  they 
were  ladies,  and  many  of  them  would  have  re- 
sented any  other  descriptive. 

The    converse    of    these    dames    commonly 

•Why  we  should  repeatedly  say  "Victorian"  when  we 
speak  of  the  time's  fashions  in  dress  is  not  clear.  Most 
of  the  vogues  of  that  day,  for  instance  that  of  the  "modest 
and  pious  crinoline,"  were  due  to  the  taste  of  the  Spanish 
leader  of  the  French  court. 


78  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

dropped  to  the  lugubrious  note  of  the  anaemic 
woman;  evidences  they  unconsciously  bore  to 
their  shutting-off  from  the  companionship  and 
ideas  of  the  world.  They  would  talk  of  the 
advantages  of  their  old  home,  its  fine  spacious- 
ness, the  narrowness  and  disadvantages  of  the 
new.  But  inanities  of  those  who  pass  their  days 
in  parlors  did  not  prevail.  The  optimism  of 
founders  and  up-builders  brightened  these 
ladies,  also.  Hopeful  lines  of  the  mouth  far 
outnumbered  lines  of  despair.  In  a  new  com- 
monwealth men  and  women  are  more  exactly 
companions  than  where  conventions  rule,  their 
needs  of  each  other  establishing  interdepend- 
ence. 

Among  those  early  visits  Mrs.  Shannon's 
stands  clearest  in  memory.  Governor  Shannon, 
who  had  had  a  notable  career  as  governor  of 
Ohio,  United  States  Minister  to  Mexico,  and 
later  governor  of  Kansas  accompanied  his  wife. 
A  late  number  of  a  magazine,  Harper's,  I  think, 
lay  on  the  table,  and  in  it  account  of  Tom  Cor- 
win  and  a  campaign  of  his  against  Governor 
Shannon.  Naturally  our  parents  spoke  of  the 
article,  and  this  led  to  the  retelling  of  one  of  its 
stories — how  the  brilliant  Ohioan  met  Mrs. 
Shannon  in  a  stage  coach,  and  on  learning  who 
she  was  paid  her  marked  courtesies ;  and  how, 


IN   LAUREL,  TOWN  79 

when  change  of  coaches  came,  and  he  was  to  take 
another  line,  the  orator  laid  her  baby  Wilson 
on  her  lap  with  the  remark  that  he  would  soon 
lay  the  old  Governor  as  flat  on  his  back  as  he 
was  now  laying  the  young  governor;  thus  dis- 
closing to  Mrs.  Shannon  who  the  gentleman  of 
cavalier  politeness  really  was. 

Still,  of  the  callers  that  afternoon,  I  recall 
more  plainly  Sallie  Shannon — the  most  beauti- 
ful human  creature  I  have  ever  seen.  Not  at- 
tractiveness of  color,  but  the  higher  beauty,  ex- 
quisite proportion  and  expression,  marked  her 
in  every  way — a  perfectly  modeled  forehead, 
nose  and  chin,  delicately  curved  mouth  and  fine 
complexion,  back  of  which  shown  limpid,  lus- 
trous eyes  of  grey  and  brown  hair.  She  wore  a 
close-fitting,  black-silk  frock  (the  family  were  in 
half -mourning),  a  band  of  tiny,  white  French 
roses  forming  the  collar. 

A  little  later  on,  when  fame  of  her  beauty  had 
gone  abroad,  she  paid  the  penalty  public  admir- 
ation exact,  whether  of  poet,  orator  or  a  beauti- 
ful woman.  Self-consciousness  settled  on  her 
countenance.  But  at  this  day  of  which  I  speak, 
she  was  about  eighteen,  like  a  lily  blossoming 
out  of  sheer  loveliness.  She  bore  herself  with 
grace  and  the  repose  convents  stamp,  or  at  any 
rate  stamped,  upon  girls  bred  in  their  cloisters. 


80  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

In  those  days  I  did  not  know  the  artificiality, 
and  her  native  beauty  sent  me,  a  flapper,  into 
hushed  wonder.  I  wanted  to  gaze  upon  her  till 
her  form  and  face  were  photographed  on  some 
sensitized  tablet  of  memory — just  as  later  I  felt 
before  the  perfection  of  old  sculpture. 

In  those  days,  too,  we  saw  Mr.  John  Hutch- 
ings,  and  his  winsome  wife  who  had  the  gift  of 
singing  English,  Scottish  and  Irish  songs  with 
their  native  simplicity  and  tenderness.  At  times 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hutchings  would  bring  friends, 
for  instance  the  later  lamented  Elliot  V.  Banks, 
and  then  we  delighted  in  stories  told  with  strik- 
ing clarity  and  conciseness ;  a  quality  springing, 
I  fancied,  from  lawyers'  .practise  in  brief- 
writing. 

One  of  these  occasions  an  intense  heat  drove 
us  out  of  doors,  to  the  shade  of  an  oak  upon 
whose  trunk  a  red-headed  woodpecker  kept  re- 
currently drumming.  Some  one  brought  up  the 
fact  that  the  day  was  the  centenary  of  the  birth 
of  Napoleon;  and  what  the  Corsican  did,  his 
love  of  the  tinsel  of  feudalism,  his  rhetorical 
successes  and  the  significance  of  his  failure  in- 
formed the  talk  that  afternoon. 

At  another  visit,  an  Independence  Day  din- 
ner, our  guests  told  how  they  fled  the  morning 
of  Quantrell's  raid,  and,  pointing  towards  acres 


IN  LA.UBEL  TOWN  81 

skirting  the  Kaw,  said  the  tall  corn*  of  tEat  rich 
loam  saved  their  lives  by  concealing  them  as 
they  ran. 

n 

Sufferings  of  Laurel  Town  at  the  hands  of  its 
enemies  and  during  its  early  years  spoke 
through  legends  innumerable  in  our  after-days. 
Let  one  alone  bear  witness ;  the  story  of  a  ser- 
viceable hoop-skirt. 

Now,  we  know  that  a  farthingale,  as  our  fore- 
mothers  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  time  called  a 
hooped  petticoat,  a  farthingale  is  hardly  the  best 
sort  of  a  lorry  for  carrying  valuables  from  a  be- 
leaguered city.  In  stirring  old  times  of  Queen 
Bess,  and  in  the  renewed  fashion  of  Queen 
Anne's  day,  rumors  now  and  then  went  abroad 
that  a  man  had  in  great  stress,  for  instance  to 
save  his  life,  been  secreted  in  their  ample  coop 
or  go-cart.  I  doubt  not  that  farthingales,  and 
women  in  farthingales,  in  those  earlier  cen- 
turies, did  heroic  deeds.  Else  women  would  not 
have  been  women.  But  the  story  of  what  this 
farthingale  accomplished  in  Laurel  Town,  in 
Kansas,  in  the  year  1863,  is  so  good  that  it 
ought  to  have  a  headline  all  to  itself.  There- 
fore, will  Mr.  Printer  kindly  insert  in  small, 
black,  'fat  caps ; 


82  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

THE   LEGEND    OF  THE  SERVICEABLE 
HOOP-SKIRT 

Quantrell  and  his  band  got  into  Laurel  Town 
that  morning  of  the  21st  of  August,  1863,  with- 
out discovery.  How  they  did  no  one  ever  could 
tell. 

One  report  had  it  that  Sallie  Young  was  seen 
ahorseback  in  the  early  grey  of  the  day,  her 
pony  loping  over  the  level  towards  Frank- 
lin, and  that  she  led  in  the  chief  and  pointed  out 
the  houses  of  Yankee  Free-Staters — all  in  mem- 
ory of  their  youthful  friendship  over  in  Ohio. 
But  the  story?  had  little  credit  among  the  clearer- 
minded.  And  from  what  I  saw  of  Sallie  Young 
years  after,  still  a  buxom  woman  in  Governor 
Shannon's  household,  I  should  call  the  tale  ab- 
surd. 

Quantrell  knew  every  inch  of  Laurel  Town. 
In  earlier  years  he  had  lived  there.  No  one 
needed  to  point  him  the  way. 

That  August  morning,  however,  no  one  doubt- 
ed Quantrell  was  in  town.  His  two  hundred  and 
ninety-four  "border  ruffians?',  their  chief  at 
their  head,  came  over  the  south-east  prairie  like 
a  devastating  whirlwind. 

Daring  and  deviltry  had  marked  these  bush- 
whackers from  the  beginning  of  the  Civil  War. 


IN   LAIHIEL,  TOWN  83 

Desperadoes  all  of  them,  they  nested  in  the  Sni 
hills  near  Kansas  City,  and  from  dense  woods 
and  impenetrable  underbrush  dashed  out  for 
raids.  Then,  after  their  plundering  and  burn- 
ing, a  superb  horsemanship  permitted  their 
speedily  racing  back  and  concealing  themselves, 
at  times  among  the  brakes  of  the  Blackwater 
river,  but  more  often  in  their  fastnesses  of  lofty 
ledged  bluffs  alternating  with  deep  ravines  lead- 
ing to  the  Sni  and  the  Blue. 

Such  deeds  as  these  of  theirs  Robin  Hood  is 
reported  to  have  done  in  Sherwood  Forest  of 
England  some  seven  hundred  years  ago,  and  in 
a  milder  manner;  Robin  and  his  outlaws  aiming 
to  dispense  rude  justice  by  robbing  rich  Nor- 
mans and  endowing  poor  Saxons.  These  bandits 
of  the  border  of  Missouri  and  its  western  neigh- 
bor carried  on  their  guerrillas  against  every  in- 
terest that  sought  to  make  Kansas  a  free  state. 

Laurel  Town,  that  child-city,  forty  miles,  say, 
from  their  ledged  hills,  had  centered  Free-State 
activities  through  the  ten  years  of  its  existence. 
Its  people  had  not  hesitated  to  declare  their 
stand  for  human  freedom,  their  hatred  of  human 
slavery.  Nothing  more  native  to  those  times  and 
places,  therefore,  than  that  border  bands  should 
make  the  town  a  target  for  their  ill-will.  Already 
they  had  tried  to  destroy  it.  And  now,  after 


84  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

years  of  a  vast,  organized  rebellion,  they  hated 
it  with  an  intensity  that  only  their  own  lurid 
invective  could  describe. 

The  law-abiding  folks  of  Laurel  Town  knew 
this  resentment.  Through  months  they  kept 
patrol,  and  took  turns  in  night  guard.  But  only 
lately  an  order  had  reached  them  to  stack  their 
guns  in  an  armory.  This  night  of  August  the 
little  city  lay  without  watchers — save  the  stars 
of  heaven. 

So  it  happened  that  Quantrell  and  his  bush- 
whackers, bending  forward  on  the  neck  of  their 
mounts  till  each  man  seemed  a  part  of  the  animal 
he  strode — guiding  the  light-footed  horses 
wholly  by  their  legs,  thus  leaving  both  hands 
free  to  carry  shooting  irons — so  it  happened  the 
bushwhackers  rode  through  the  early  dawn  into 
the  sleeping  city. 

Whooping  and  firing  of  guns  awakening  them, 
the  people  of  Laurel  Town  instantly  knew  the 
fortune  of  the  assault.  Who,  also,  its  prey.  Men 
sprang  from  their  beds  and  ran  for  hiding  places 
— to  an  empty  barrel,  to  a  wife's  fruit  closet, 
through  a  bulk-head  door  just  as  a  bandit  en- 
tered the  house,  pistol  cocked,  to  shoot  on  sight 
any  man  there. 

Not  only  murder ;  burning,  too,  must  be  essen- 
tial in  putting  the  town  to  extremes.  "Women 


IN   LAUREL  TOWN  85 

worked  to  quench  fire  eating  its  way  up  the  sides 
of  their  houses ;  and  saw  husband,  or  father,  shot 
dead  within  touch  of  their  hand.  In  one  dwelling 
a  stalwart  outlaw  laid  lighted  matches  against 
curtains  and  other  quickly  ignited  furnishings, 
while  the  housewife  followed  beating  out  blazes 
with  her  blistered  fingers.  Every  excess  of  par- 
tisan warfare  held  sway. 

On  rising  ground,  over  near  the  river,  stood 
the  Eldridge  House,  a  four-story  brick  hotel. 
This  summer-season  many  people  housed  within 
its  walls — travelers  from  a  distance ;  men  come 
to  see  the  beauty  of  the  country  and  the  arduous, 
picturesque  life  of  the  young  commonwealth; 
then  again,  others  looking  for  investments  of 
idle  money. 

Among  young  couples  living  in  the  hotel  were 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Tisdale;  he  interested  in  far- 
reaching  stage-coach  lines;  she  a  sweet-faced 
bride,  gifted  with  the  liveliness  and  brightness 
of  French  blood,  gifted,  moreover,  with  every 
woman's  wit  in  a  dilemma. 

This  21st  day  of  August  the  beating  of  horses' 
hoofs  and  shooting  of  guns  woke  the  lady  from 
her  morning  slumbers.  Sensing  the  cause,  she 
at  once  began  planning  how  to  save  her  hus- 
band's business  papers ;  which  she  felt  sure  he 
would  preserve  if  he  were  there. 


86  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

How  terribly  near  those  whoops  and  yells 
sounded ! 

She  opened  her  door  to  the  public  hallway  in 
hopes  of  another's  word  and  counsel.  An  ac- 
quaintance, Mr.  Thompson  from  New  York,  at 
that  instant  came  by.  The  two  spoke  together — 
the  hotel  must  suffer  the  raiders*  fury,  probably 
its  men  killed  and  the  building  fired. 

Like  Mr.  Tisdale,  Mr.  Thompson  had  papers 
of  importance  to  the  fortunes  of  himself  and 
others.  He  told  of  his  anxiety  lest  the  records 
be  destroyed. 

"I  have  just  taken  my  husband's  from  his  sec- 
retary", said  the  lady  showing  bulky  folios,  "and 
I'll  care  for  yours,  too,  if  you  wish". 

"Can  you!"  asked  Mr.  Thompson  hesitating. 

"I  am  sure",  cried  Mrs.  Tisdale.  "But  run. 
Take  the  ferry.  Or  swim". 

"I'll  bring  the  papers",  rejoined  Mr.  Thomp- 
son. "I  wish  I  could  save  some  underwear",  he 
added,  hastening  toward  his  room. 

"You  can't",  cried  Mrs.  Tisdale  nervously. 
"Fetch  the  papers;  and  clothes.  I'll  see  what  I 
can  do.  And  run.  Eun  for  the  river". 

Mr.  Thompson  brought  his  belongings  and 
fled. 

Mrs.  Tisdale  turned  back  to  her  room  and 
locked  her  door. 


IN"   LAUREL  TOWN  87 

Silence  now  reigned  in  front  of  the  hotel. 
The  bushwhackers  were  parleying  for  delivery 
into  their  hands  of  the  building  and  its  people. 

In  the  peace  of  these  minutes  Mrs.  Tisdale 
hung  her  hoop-skirt  from  a  nail,  and  with  twine 
bound  on  the  inner  side  of  the  steels  all  the 
legal  papers  in  her  care.  Little  pieces  of  under- 
wear, half  the  comfort  of  living,  she  also  tied 
fast  till  the  crinoline  looked  like  a  beehive  of 
red-tape  documents  and  wads  of  cloth. 

She  slipped  the  hoops  over  her  head  and 
buckled  the  belt.  A  couple  of  petticoats.  Sur- 
mounting the  structure  with  a  dimity  frock  and 
silk  mantilla,  she  took  her  bag  (in  those  days 
called  reticule)  in  hand  and  passed  down  the 
stairs  to  the  "Ladies'  Entrance" — just  round  the 
corner  from  the  main  doors  where  the  bandits 
were  completing  their  terms  of  the  surrender. 

Her  hoopskirt  swayed  with  its  burden.  The 
unexpected  weight  of  the  luggage  nearly  over- 
came her.  But  with  heart  as  strong  as  resource- 
fulness clever,  she  would  be  the  last  to  let  the 
load  affect  her  light  step  and  calm  countenance. 

Not  far  off  she  met  a  group  of  raiders ;  some 
clad  in  butternut ;  a  few  vain-gloriously  rigged 
in  red-top  boots,  coats  with  linings  turned  out- 
side to  gratify  their  taste  for  color,  and  red 
handkerchiefs  tied  about  their  swarthy  necks. 


88  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

1 '  Terrible,  but  picturesque !"  she  said  to  her- 
self. 

Then  she  saw  them  demanding  gold  trinkets 
from  other  women,  even  searching  the  women's 
pockets;  and  this  led  her  to  go  a  trifle  timor- 
ously. One  ruffian  did  swagger  towards  her  and 
call  out  that  here  they  might  find  booty.  His 
companions,  possibly  satiated  by  some  good  for- 
tune, told  him  to  come  with  them. 

At  last,  breathless  and  quivering,  Mrs.  Tis- 
dale  reached  the  river,  and  in  time  to  catch  the 
ferry.  On  the  other  side  she  would  find  friends. 
There,  too,  her  husband  would  join  her  on  his 
return  from  Fort  Leavenworth. 

The  boat  finally  made  the  north  bank. 

Why  did  she  back  away? — her  stricken  com- 
rades asked  when  they  pressed' towards  her  as 
she  stepped  upon  the  sand.  No  word,  merely 
waving  her  hand  and  seeking  a  clump  of  willows. 

A  minute  after  she  came  forth  'holding  up  to 
full  view  her  freighted  farthingale.  And  then 
the  relaxation  of  a  smile  spread  over  every  anx- 
ious countenance  as  she  untied  and  handed  Mr. 
Thompson  his  legal  papers,  adding  a  pair  of 
stockings.  Many  had  fled  in  scant  clothing  and 
her  gifts  served  their  needs. 

Yellow  smoke,  plumed  by  the  wind  of  a  soft 
summer  morning,  now  rolled  skyward,  and  the 


IN   LAUREL  TOWN  89 

refugees  stood  straining  eyes  to  lengthen  their 
vision,  guessing  from  whose  house  this  cloud,  or 
that  cloud,  might  have  risen.  They  had  not  long 
to  wait  before  flames  shot  from  the  roof  of  the 
Eldridge  House ;  and  little  longer  till  its  brick 
walls  alone  remained  to  witness  to  the  building's 
uses. 

Human  worth — what  human  courage  could  do 
to  save  men  from  murder  and  homes  from  burn- 
ing— that  day  sent  down  many  a  legacy  and 
sanctified  the  little  city  to  all  posterity. 

But  the  retiring  bushwhackers?  Union  sol- 
diers traced  them  by  their  horses'  footprints, 
and,  reports  said,  next  day  came  upon  their 
rear.  Yet  lacking  orders,  they  made  no  attack. 

Lifter  a  fortnight,  in  endeavor  at  Paola  to  or- 
ganize retaliatory  measures,  General  James  H. 
Lane  claimed  that  the  ranking  officers  were 
rebel-sympathizers,  and  that  ruffians  would  de- 
vastate the  whole  Kansas  border: — "There  is 
one  remedy  only,  and  that  lies  in  the  people's 
hands.  The  way  to  kill  wolves  is  to  hunt  them 
in  their  dens.  The  way  to  exterminate  snakes  is 
to  crush  them  in  their  nests.  The  way  to  punish 
Quantrell  and  his  band  is  to  make  a  burning  hell 
of  Missouri." 

This  appeal  sent  out  several  companies  of 
cavalry;  who,  however,  found  no  way  to  effect- 


90  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

ive  reprisal.  In  the  end  the  guerrillas  paid  light- 
ly for  their  raid  on  Laurel  Town. 

Unequal  payment  often  evented  in  other  inter- 
tribal wars — for  instance,  in  the  old  encounters 
of  Scotch  highlander  with  Scotch  lowlander; 
Irish  clan  with  Irish  clan ;  English  faction  with 
Welsh.  Yet  with  this  difference  in  result  be- 
tween mediaeval  conditions  and  our  own : — 

While  in  earlier  centuries  Quantrell  might 
have  seized  the  stricken  town,  and  gained  a 
feudal  title,  say,  "Earl  of  the  Douglas  Marshes", 
or  "Lord  of  Laurel  Town",  in  our  democratic 
and  more  truth-telling  days  he  was  merely 
branded  a  brutal  bushwhacker,  and,  rumor  told, 
fearing  some  mortal  might  seek  vengeance,  in 
years  following  the  war  he  concealed  his  name 
and  his  whereabouts. 


in 

Colonization  fires  the  fancy  of  nearly  all  kinds 
of  people.  First  it  seizes  the  strong,  the  ad- 
venturous, who  must  express  their  life  in  deeds, 
who  are  articulate  through  action  rather  than 
speech.  Not  infrequently  high-spirited  and  im- 
aginative, such  men  and  women  gave  color  and 
individuality  to  Laurel  Town  in  its  earlier  days. 


IN   LAUREL   TOWN  91 

They  had  settled  with  intent  of  working  out 
a  free  state,  and  to  found  institutions  embodying 
truth  and  justice — bent,  that  is,  on  concreting 
such  principles  as  Anglo-Saxons  have  endeav- 
ored after  these  last  eight  hundred  years.  They 
lived  ardent,  constructive  lives. 

Their  circumstances  were  narrow.  They  un- 
derstood the  nobility  of  self-helpfulness,  and 
perforce  practised  William  Perm's  advice, 
"Have  little  to  do,  and  do  it  thyself".  Their 
houses,  a  well-read  Laurel  Townsman  once  de- 
clared, called  to  mind  Lord  Hervey's  quip 
about  the  villa  an  Earl  of  Burlington  built; 
"Too  small  to  live  in,  and  too  large  to  hang  to 
a  watch." 

Even  in  years  a  little  later,  when  we  knew  the 
burg,  its  people  retained  the  venturesomeness  of 
the  colonizer  and,  bristling  with  "corners",  re- 
fused to  be  dovetailed  into  community  methods 
and  community  manners.  They  made  no  secret 
of  their  despising  conventionalities  as  tyranny 
— in  those  days,  one  must  not  forget,  the  sane 
spirit  of  gratitude  that  evented  from  the  Civil 
War  warmed  every  heart ;  the  old,  basic  Ameri- 
can habit  of  mind  prevailed,  the  benefactive,  the 
benevolent;  that  outlook  on  life  that  gave  this 
country  laws  and  stable  government,  and  invited 
other  peoples  to  share  the  good  of  their  labors ; 


92  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

the  old  American  mental  attitude,  altruistic  and 
helpful  to  the  degree  that  when  a  stranger  en- 
tered a  yard  and  walked  towards  an  owner  sit- 
ting on  his  porch,  he  met  the  salutation : '  *  Gbod 
morning,  sir,  what  can  I  do  for  you?"* 

In  those  old  Laurel  Town  days  a  considerable 
percentage  of  the  people  prospered  on  what  has 
repeatedly  kept  colonists  alive;  "I  have  always 
fed  on  illusions",  wrote  one,  awakening  to  fact 
at  the  end  of  a  long  life.  So  often  did  they  mis- 
take creatures  of  their  mind  for  realities  and  in- 
sistently deceive  themselves,  that  they  did 
astonishing  deeds. 

Individualists  of  ripest  harvest,  "originals," 
"eccentrics,"  you  see,  thinking  their  own  pun- 
gent thoughts  so  vividly  that  they  dared  to 
speak  them;  piquant,  often  polemic,  sometimes 
seemingly  irreverent,  always  forceful,  effective, 
clean,  and  blessed  with  the  cool,  straight-to-the- 

*We  had  not  yet  passed  through  the  immigrants'  gate 
millions  of  foreigners,  often  boorish  in  breeding,  saturated 
•with  anarchies  and  socialisms  generated,  like  malignant, 
febrile  plagues,  in  ineradicable  slums  of  Eastern  Europe, 
and  traveling  westward — we  had  not  yet  passed  through 
the  immigrants'  gate  spouters  and  adherents  of  spouters 
of  vague,  silly  inaccurate  isms ;  incapable  of  balanced  reason- 
ing ;  transferring  their  hostilities  towards  feudalisms  of  their 
old  home  to  our  country,  and  abusing  us  and  institutions 
we  afford  them — inflooders  whose  only  query  seeming  to  be, 
"What  can  you  do  for  me?"  do  not  delay  for  verbalisms, 
but  proceed  by  exploiture  to  answer  their  question  them- 
selves. 


IN   LAUKEL  TOWN  93 

point  independence  of  the  New  Englander;  ex- 
pressing themselves  not  in 

"Taffata   phrases,    silken   terms   precise," 

but,  rather,  baldly  speaking 

"In  russet  yeas,  and  honest  kersey  noes". 

Of  that  sort  was  Mrs.  Plympton,  centre  of 
surpassing  stories;  a  spare  dame  with  promi- 
nent nose,  thin,  compressed  lips,  broad,  reflective 
brow  and  blunt  action. 

"Mother,  what  would  you  like  for  your  birth- 
day!" asked  a  son  of  hers,  the  one  she  described 
as  "more  Christ-like"  than  her  other  children, 
"Blue  silk  for  a  dress  or  black!" 

"Oh,  get  it  black,"  returned  the  lady  sturdily, 
"black  does  for  funerals  as  well  as  weddings." 

There  you  have  it — stern,  stiff,  old  Anglo- 
Saxon  stock,  yet  so  vision-eyed,  tear-eyed,  ten- 
der-hearted, too,  in  its  depths,  that  it  keeps  itself 
from  whimpering  and  blubbering  only  by  press- 
ing back  emotion ;  a  stock  so  averse  to  falsehood 
that  it  distrusts  emotion  as  a  fleeting  thing  and 
wipes  expression  of  sentiment  out  of  its  daily 
life;  a  blood  that  has  worked  out  world-com- 
pelling ideals  and  in  accord  with  the  law  that 
great  thoughts  come  from  the  heart. 

A  Vermont  man  whom  the  family  had  known 
before  they  trekked  in  white-sailed  prairie- 


94  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

schooner  over  western  lands — a  Vermont  man 
sought  a  daughter  of  this  dame  in  marriage. 
The  bride  followed  the  habit  of  women-kind  the 
world  over,  and  went  back  with  her  husband 
to  his  home.  Not  long  to  enjoy  life,  however. 
Upon  her  death,  naturally  and  conventionally, 
her  body  was  laid  in  the  Green  Mountain  bury- 
ing ground  of  her  husband.  There  several  years 
it  rested. 

At  the  end  of  such  a  time,  for  some  reason 
later  days  do  not  disclose,  Mrs.  Plympton  de- 
termined the  reliques  should  be  brought  -to 
Laurel  Town  for  final  burial. 

Now,  in  such  a  settlement  as  Laurel  Town, 
leastwise  as  Laurel  Town  was,  each  family  knew 
the  general  lines  of  neighbors'  lives.  Mrs. 
Plympton  had  openly  told  she  was  going  to  ask 
Enoch  for  her  daughter's  remains.  Afterwards 
she  said  he  had  agreed  to  her  petition.  Neigh- 
bors had  eyes  as  well  as  ears.  They  knew  the 
mortuary  box  arrived,  and  was  carried  to  the 
mother's  house. 

Time  passed  into  weeks.  One  afternoon  a 
near-door  dweller  dropped  in  for  half  an  hour's 
confabulation.  The  caller  followe'd  her  alert 
and  busy  hostess  to  the  part  of  the  house  where 
her  duties  that  hour  were  lying,  and  at  last 
spoke  of  Mrs.  Plympton's  probable  satisfaction 


IN   LAUREL  TOWN  95 

in  having  the  mortality  of  her  daughter  brought 
home. 

"Will  there  he  any  service  at  the  final  inter- 
ment at  Laurel  Town?" 

"No,"  returned  Mrs.  Plympton.  She  stood 
at  her  ironing  board,  generations  of  refined 
thought  illuminating  her  face,  and  her  own  in- 
nate dignity  speaking  from  her  person.  "I 
had  the  coffin  put  down  cellar. 

"If  I  had  been  a  man,"  she  added  reflectively, 
gazing  with  vision-suffused  eyes  into  the  im- 
personal spaces  of  the  yard,  "I  should  have  been 
a  doctor.  I've  always  had  such  a  longing  to 
study  the  human  skeleton !  But  I  never  had  a 
chance  before." 

A  ghoulish  story,  you  exclaim.  And  playing 
back  in  the  recesses  of  your  mind  is  the  wonder 
if  Mrs.  Plympton  made  her  request  of  Enoch  in 
order  to  satisfy  her  craving  for  the  scientific 
analysis  to  which  she  was  confessedly  subjecting 
her  daughter's  poor  bones.  Not  by  measure  of 
the  average  mind. 

Mrs.  Plympton's  was  not  the  average  mind, 
however — rather  a  mind  with  native  cravings 
choked  back  through  long  years  of  devotion  to 
husband  and  bairns  and  now,  at  last,  finding 
pathetic  gratification.  An  afterthought,  doubt- 
less, her  "study  of  the  human  skeleton,"  spring- 


96  CEBTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

ing  when  sentiment  had  satisfied  itself  and 
mental  equipoise  supervened.  In  her  conceal- 
ing and  suppressing  an  inborn  gift — led  to  such 
conduct  plainly  enough  by  moral  sense  of  duties 
she  assumed  when  she  married — the  world  may 
have  lost  a  notable  anatomist. 

But  listen  to  another  tale — this  macabre,  too. 
Yet  unadulterated  truth  brings  a  happier  end. 

A  phrase-maker  of  Kansas,  and  the  state  has 
had  many,  once  said  that  its  climate  was  "al- 
ways too  'nough  or  too  none."  Amidst  plenty 
of  heat  and  no  rain,  Laurel  Town  had  another 
ghostly  happening. 

One  summe)r-day  express  offices  under  the 
Eldridge  House  received  a  long,  narrow  box; 
which  was  pushed  to  one  side  to  await  its  can- 
signee,  Ephraim  Quat. 

An  odd-looking  box;  and  it  did  not  strike  the 
clerks  of  the  office  agreeably.  The  day  after  its 
arrival,  glancing  towards  that  part  of  the  room 
where  it  lay,  they  began  protesting  one  to  an- 
other : 

"Have  you  noticed?    Positively  offensive!" 

"Strange  name  that — Ephraim  Quat!" 

"Quat!   Quat!  What  Quat?" 

"Never  heard  anything  like  it  here." 

'  *  Sounds  as  if  it  were  made  up." 

"I  think  it  is  fiction." 


IN   LATJBEL  TOWN  97 

"Wouldn't  wonder  if  those  six  boards  con- 
cealed some  crime." 

"Its  very  shape  shows  the  box  holds  a  coffin  1" 

Each  hour  its  presence  became  more  intoler- 
able. By  the  day's  closing  the  whole  force  were 
sickened,  as  well  as  ghost-haunted.  And  when 
the  sun  sank  round  and  red,  portending  hot 
weather  still  on  the  morrow,  it  was  not  difficult 
to  conclude  the  box  must  be  laid  in  a  kindly, 
concealing  earth. 

Next  morning,  just  as  the  office-doors  opened, 
a  gentleman  of  the  old  soft-mannered  type, 
white-haired,  white-cravated,  long-black-coated, 
a  staunch  Episcopalian,  known  as  "Lord"  Den- 
man  because  of  punctilious  courtesy  and  other 
qualities  the  title  "lord"  supposedly  connotes — 
Lord  Denman  chanced  to  come  in  errand  about 
a  parcel. 

He  listened  with  sympathy  to  the  murmurs 
beginning  afresh,  and  found  it  not  hard  to  sense 
the  grounds  of  the  complaint.  "Surely,"  he 
said  to  the  protesting  clerks,  "the  box  is  a  thing 
intolerable." 

To  aid  to  their  relief,  he  added,  he  would 
accompany  the  body  to  the  cemetery,  and,  since 
his  rector  was  out  of  town,  help  bury  it  with 
last  rites  of  the  church. 

"That's  the  right  thing  for  everybody,"  the 


98  CEETAIN  WHO  DWELT 

clerks  declared,  "and  especially  justice  for  the 
unhappy  unclaimed." 

Without  further  delay  they  commandeered  an 
express  wagon  to  take  away  the  remains,  and 
calling  a  hack  for  Lord  Denman,  and  such  pitiful 
and  curious  hystanders  as  offered  to  serve  as 
pall-hearers,  they  drove  to  the  hurying  ground. 

There,  in  a  peace  unbroken  save  hy  the  voice 
of  birds  and  rustle  of  oak  leaves,  Lord  Denman 
solemnly  read  the  ritual  for  * '  The  Burial  of  the 
Dead,"  and  they  sank  the  case  in  the  resting 
place  the  sexton  had  prepared. 

What  relief  every  one  felt!  The  natural 
buoyancy  of  the  younger  returned  as  they  drove 
back  to  the  office.  The  elder  estimated  their 
work  as  a  humane  deed  for  some  unknown, 
possibly  mistreated  mortal.  All  agreed  they 
had  done  as  they  would  be  done  by,  and  had 
freed  themselves  from  an  offence  that  had 
reached  the  very  face  of  heaven. 

A  day  or  two  after  this  outpouring  of  com- 
passion, a  husky,  well-overhauled,  young  farmer 
drove  up,  and  sprang  from  his  mud-stained 
spring-wagon. 

"Pm  expecting  a  box,"  he  said  as  he  entered 
the  express-room.  "Had  it  sent  to  Laurel 
Town  for  your  office  is  nearer  than  any  other  to 
my  place  in  Tonganoxie." 


IN   LATJEEL  TOWN  99 

"What  name?"  asked  a  clerk. 

"Ephraim  Quat,"  answered  Mr.  Farmer. 

Nervous  glances  from  every  clerk. 

"Yes,  we  had  such  a  box." 

"Had  such  a  box!" 

"But  we  had  to  bury  it." 

"Bury  it!"  echoed  Mr.  Quat,  "Why?" 

"Well,  if  you  'd  come  in  the  day  after  the  box 
got  here,"  called  out  one  of  the  bolder  of  the 
office  force,  "your  nose  would  have  told  you 
why." 

The  consignee  could  make  nothing  out  of  the 
history  they  gave  him,  and  a  few  minutes  later 
the  express  clerks  again  levied  on  a  company- 
wagon,  and  taking  with  them  the  mystified  Mr. 
Quat,  drove  to  the  cemetery.  Work  now  was 
to  dig  up  the  box.  And  then  the  task  of  exam- 
ing  its  contents ! 

They  were  willing  to  handle  a  digger's  shovel, 
but  at  the  duty  of  unfastening  and  lifting  off 
the  lid  each  man  shied — all  save  Mr.  Quat  whose 
conscience  made  him  fearless,  whose  zeal  to  get 
back  to  his  work  drove  him  on. 

He  talked  lightly,  the  express  boys  felt,  when 
he  took  a  screw-driver  from  his  pocket.  "Any 
of  you  know  a  rain-maker?"  he  queried.  "How 
I  do  hone  for  a  regular,  all-day  drizzle,"  he  con- 
tinued as  he  worked  at  loosening  the  cover, 


100  CEBTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

"the  sort  that  comes  soft  and  wets  deep,  not  a 
pelter  that  pounds  down  and  runs  off  and  doesn't 
strike  in  more  'n  an  inch. 

"Not  a  cloud  as  big  as  a  tax  commissioner's 
mercy  in  sight,"  he  added,  squinting  at  the  hori- 
zon. "Well,  it's  ploughing  this  afternoon  for 
me." 

Finally,  all  fastenings  out,  he  carefully  raised 
the  top  board.  Packed  in  waste  and  wrapped 
in  newspapers  lay  the  new  "fixings"  he  had 
ordered  for  his  farm  machinery. 

Joy  mixed  with  shamefacedness  filled  the 
wagon  which  brought  men  and  case  back  to 
Laurel  Town. 

"What  could  have  been,"  the  express  boys 
asked  themselves,  "that  made  the  air  of  the 
office  so  insufferable  those  days  the  box  stood 
there?" 

They  were  never  able  to  tell.  Perhaps  they 
became  sensitive  about  the  matter.  Leastwise, 
no  word  ever  escaped  to  Lord  Denman  that  they 
had  resurrected  the  unhappy  mortal  over  whom 
he,  deeply  moved,  had  conducted  sacramental 
liturgies. 

As  for  Ephraim  Quat — he  started  home  be- 
fore noon  declaring  himself  mighty  glad  to  get 
those  fittings,  and  he  now  hoped  to  plant  his 
winter  wheat  within  a  fortnight. 


IN   LAUREL  TOWN  101 

IV 

"Nature,"  said  a  witty  Kansan  speaking  of 
colonization  appealing  to  others  than  the  strong, 
"Nature  is  profuse  with  her  Dirt,  and  sparing 
of  her  Deity." 

Colonization  does  strike  the  fancy  of  a  flying 
squadron  of  the  Half-baked — people  who,  so  far 
as  mental  grasp  goes,  pass  through  life  a  sort 
o'  babe-needing-incubator-nursing ;  people  un- 
able to  comprehend  eternal  verities;  incapable 
of  standards ;  with  not  a  notion  of  the  price  the 
human  race  has  paid  for  the  modicum  of  truth  it 
possesses.  A  citizen  coming  to  my  mind's  eye 
as  I  write  affords  fair  example;  a  squash- 
headed  old  boy,  (his  face  suggested  to  you  a 
gourd  of  the  yellow  variety)  who  bragged  he 
had  had  no  schooling  since  he  was  twelve; 
who  would,  for  instance,  go  one  evening  to  a 
"spiritualistic  seance,"  and  with  the  same 
approachment  sit  at  home  next  night  and  read 
Emerson. 

Yes,  new  settlements  do  also  attract  the  Half- 
baked  ;  folks  one-sidedly  intelligent,  hardly  ever 
articulate  through  the  hand  or  any  medium 
except  the  tongue,  but  articulate  through  the 
tongue  to  an  astounding  degree;  people  whose 
main  aim  in  the  realm  of  morals  seems,  in  the 


102  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

phrase  of  our  Milesian  friends,  "to  give  a  saus- 
age and  take  a  ham." 

That  sort  has  long  accompanied  colonists. 
Tales  nearly,  or  quite,  three  thousand  years  old 
tell  of  Thersites  in  a  Greek  settlement. 

The  identical  law  held  at  Laurel  Town.  Half- 
bakeds  were  not  lacking.  Under  this  family 
name,  however,  stood  various  genera  de- 
scribed in  that  day's  idiom,  more  often  spoken 
than  written  —  a  speech  not  elegant,  but 
grounded  in  truth  and  winged  by  fancy — as 
"sap-heads,"  "un-mit-i-ga-ted  ahsses,"  "pinky- 
dinkies,"  "bone-heads,  "pin-heads,"  "natural- 
born-durn  fools,"  and  so  on. 

To  trade  on  another's  strength  in  achieve- 
ment, to  deplete  another's  vitality,  and  again  to 
do  deeds  that  made  the  stronger  explode  in  a 
laughter  darkening  the  eyelids  with  tears  and 
as  unquenchable  as  the  immortals',  seemed  the 
role  of  Half-bakeds  in  the  community  drama. 
Commonly  they  acted  their  part  well. 

Not  infrequently  their  sayings,  or  doings, 
were  a  coming  to  the  surface  of  Anglo-Saxon 
"temperament;"  or  of  that  generous,  laughter- 
loving,  hey-nonny-nonny,  gifted-with-words, 
devil-may-care  blood  —  willingness  to  be  led, 
lack  of  clarity  and  singleness  of  purpose  that 
sometimes  distinguishes  Irish  Celts.  Long 


IN    LAUREL   TOWN  103 

life  to  them!  May  their  number  never  grow 
less! 

The  tragi-comedy  of  newly  married  pair  liv- 
ing at  the  Eldridge  House  serves  an  example. 

A  hotel  is  well  enough  for  folks  in  health. 
In  fact,  for  such  a  hotel  is  to  be  tolerated.  But 
surely  it  is  no  place  for  an  invalid. 

And  now  the  force  majeure  of  the  newly 
wedded  pair,  the  lady,  that  is,  fell  ill  and  had 
need  of  home  nursing.  She  was  so  sick,  indeed, 
that  she  could  not  sit  up  to  ride  from  the  hostel 
in  public  hack  or  private  carriage ;  and  no  such 
conveyance  as  an  ambulance  comforted  Laurel 
Town  in  those  days.  Yet  leave  the  hotel  she 
must. 

Her  husband  spent  the  night  at  his  wits'  end. 
Early  in  the  morning  he  called  in  a  maid  of  the 
house,  and  towards  noon  they  had  the  lady 
ready  for  setting  out — having  clothed  her  in  a 
pale-green  silk  visiting-frock,  shoeing  her  feet 
with  white  satin  slippers  and  covering  her  hands 
with  white  kid  gloves.  Then  they  laid  her  upon 
a  lounge  and  rested  from  their  labors. 

Four  stalwart  negroes  now  filed  into  the  room. 
Ranging  themselves,  one  at  each  of  its  corners, 
they  lifted  the  lounge  and  bore  it  down  the 
broad  general  stairway. 

Out  in  the  street  a  July  sun  struck  down  in 


104  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

the  pitiless  way  the  sun  has  when  appearing  in 
the  guise  of  the  Slayer.  The  lady  must  not 
suffer  Apollo's  darts.  Therefore  her  husband, 
walking  alongside,  carried  in  his  left  hand  the 
dame's  parasol,  which  matched  her  green  silk 
visiting-frock,  and  with  its  shade  protected  her 
face ;  while  he  kept  her  from  fainting  by  fanning 
her  with  her  white-satin  gilt-spangled  fan. 

Thus  the  sextette,  and  the  lounge,  moved 
along  the  sidewalk  of  the  main  street  of  Laurel 
Town,  and  down  the  thoroughfare's  busiest 
blocks.  The  hour  was  noon,  when  the  "panta- 
loon folks"  of  environing  farms  had  driven  in 
for  supplies  and  stood  smoking  and  gossiping 
under  awnings,  or  tying  their  horses  at  the  curb. 
Women,  too,  were  now  marketing  and  shopping ; 
and  merchants  setting  forth  their  wares. 

Naturally  everybody  held  up  his  business  to 
look.  But  the  sextette  went  on,  and  finally 
reached  the  home  of  the  lady's  mother-in-law; 
where  she  was  safely  put  to  bed. 

Yet  the  adventure  had  a  charming  ending. 
For  the  invalid  got  back  her  health  and  bloom, 
and  the  green  silk  frock  had  merrier,  even  if 
less  attention-compelling  excursions. 

Many  another  laughter-laden  tale  went  leap- 
ing from  lip  to  lip.  And  yet  not  far  behind 
lay  picturesque  times.  Only  five  years  before 


IN   LAUREL  TOWN  105 

the  scout  of  a  Union  colonel  used  every  day  to 
promenade  the  streets  in  a  black  velvet  suit. 
An  embossed  morocco  belt  held  his  coat  snugly 
about  his  body,  but  the  main  end  of  the  girdle 
was  to  cany  a  pair  of  ivory-mounted  revolvers. 
Red  sheepskin  leggings  covered  his  calves;  and 
a  military  hat,  set  off  with  a  flowing  black  plume 
topped  his  splendor. 

Then  there  was  the  dame  who  went  about  'in 
the  innovating  "Bloomers"  of  the  day.  One  of 
the  town-wits,  sitting  on  the  sidewalk,  his  armed 
chair  tipped  back  against  the  wall  of  the  Eld- 
ride  House  (loafers  of  a  town  are  most  often 
wits  of  a  town ;  busy  folks  do  not  find  leisure  for 
antitheses) — one  of  Laurel  Town's  wits,  slothing 
one  afternoon  as  the  Bloomers  lady  passed,  ex- 
claimed (possibly  from  the  habit  men  have 
long  had  of  criticising  women's  ways  and  deeds), 
"They  ought  to  catch  that  woman,  and  cut  off 
her  legs  to  match  her  skirts."  The  force  of  this 
remark  is  plainer,  possibly,  if  you  turn  back  to 
pages  seventy-six  and  seven  foregoing,  and  read 
of  the  power  of  the  petticoat  in  those  days. 

But  you  may  be  crying,  "Monstrous,  an  in- 
tolerable deal  of  sack  to  one  half -pennyworth  of 
bread !"  Still,  after  all,  a  whole  pennyworth  of 
truth  lies  in  what  garrulous,  old  Jean  de  Join- 
ville  told  in  his  chronicles,  some  three  hundred 


106  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

years,  by  the  bye,  before  Shakespeare  wrote  the 
famous  advice  of  Polonius ;  ""We  ought  to  dress 
in  such  a  way  that  the  more  observing  of  man- 
kind may  not  think  we  clothe  ourselves  too 
finely,  nor  the  younger  too  meanly." 

An  Anglo-Saxon  child-city  in  Kansas  is,  after 
all,  much  like  the  rest  of  the  world.  To  say  its 
folks  in  those  earlier  years  of  Laurel  Town  were 
of  like  dye  would,  I  repeat,  not  be  true.  Yet  all 
bore  the  shade  of  the  Kansan;  a  possibility  a 
greater  fact  exemplifies: — In  this  country  our 
Anglo-Saxon  foreparents  erected  on  Anglo- 
Saxon  principles,  attracting  peoples  from  all 
round  the  globe — else  why  do  they  come  here? 
to  get  advantages  and  opportunities  they  could 
not  obtain  in  their  old  home — in  this  country, 
west  and  east  even  to  the  seas,  neither  are  the 
people  of  the  various  states  of  like  dye ;  and  yet 
you  see  every  child  of  them,  whatever  the  shade 
of  his  state,  stamped  with  the  unmistakable  color 
of  the  American. 

Mysteries  at  times  haunted  Laurel  Town. 
For  instance,  there  was  the  English  lady  whose 
face  bore  the  imprint  of  imbecility;  a  young 
woman  of  the  fleshly,  Rubens  type,  fastidiously 
dressed,  guarded,  never  speaking  to  any  one, 
every  day  taking  a  constitutional  with  two 
young  men  walking  either  side  of  her.  Gossip 


IN   LA.UEEL  TOWN  107 

said  the  men  were  her  husband  and  brother,  and 
that  the  lady  owned  the  fortune  upon  which  the 
three  lived.  They  suddenly  appeared  in  Laurel 
Town ;  then  after  a  time  were  gone. 

Men  and  women  at  that  day  mysteries,  to  this 
day  mysteries — lives  which  had  not  met  conven- 
tional demands  "back  east,"  or  in  England, 
Scotland,  Ireland,  Germany  and  other  countries ; 
people  who  had,  possibly,  made  a  marriage  dis- 
tasteful to  relatives,  or  had  deviated  from  rule, 
maxim,  or  even  the  written  law,  such  were  at 
times  shipped  or  themselves  wandered  to  the 
Middle  West.  When  they  had  the  best  of  luck 
they  got  off  the  train  at  Laurel  Town. 

Provided  they  staid  put  and  did  not  disturb 
the  comfort  of  stronger  factors  in  the  old  home, 
they  lived  at  ease  upon  transmitted  support.  To 
all  such  incomers  Laurel  Town  was  undeniably 
a  Utopia,  if  they  were  thankful-hearted,  and  a 
bit  of  a  Cairo  in  Egypt,  refuge  of  mysterious 
folks  from  sundry  parts  of  the  world,  or  a  Bot- 
any Bay,  also  receptacle  of  nondescripts,  if  they 
longed  for  their  own  blood  and  its  associations. 

Then  others  besides  those  abounding  in 
strength  and  love  of  adventure,  and  high-spirit- 
edness,  and  imaginativeness ;  and  besides  those 
suffering  minor  moral  misadventures;  other 
folk  came  who  had  failed  elsewhere — a  shoe- 


108  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

merchant,  a  general  store-keeper,  clergymen  of 
various  denominations,  each  unfortunate  want- 
ing to  bury  past  experiences  and  try  to  win  life's 
guerdon  again.  And  prosperous  issue  often 
took  up  abode  with  such  workers — praise  be  to 
their  persistence ! 

Again  there  occasionally  landed  in  Laurel 
Town  people  so  successful  that  they  seemingly 
astonished  themselves — people  whom  fate  had 
lifted  to  a  condition  more  prosperous  than  their 
ambition  had  ever  vaulted  to ;  and  they  had  un- 
consciously come  to  attribute  their  own  stunned 
state  of  the  mind  to  their  neighbors. 

Such  possibly  was  Colonel  Perry.  His 
colonel's  title  may  have  been  a  relic  of  militia 
training,  or  remains  of  the  Civil  War.  Be  that 
as  it  may,  although  from  the  old,  refined  Ameri- 
can stock,  he  entered  Laurel  Town  with  a  hoop- 
la, buying  speedily  one  of  its  most  spacious 
dwellings,  driving  about  with  spanking  bays  in 
clattering  harnesses,  setting  up  a  bank,  and  de- 
claring his  wife  had  "nothing  else  to  do  but  sit 
in  her  parlor  and  cut  off  coupons."  As  to  him- 
self I  hesitate  to  report  his  exact  words.  Well, 
then,  mind  you,  in  a  low  voice  and  only  for  the 
reason  you  insist — he  said — he  was  "fairly 
lousy  with  money."  That  comes  of  your  in- 
sisting ! 


IS  LAUREL  TOWN  109 

"  Dramatic  I"  you  exclaim,  recovering  from  the 
shock.  Yes.  You  know  old  New  England  blood 
is  not  given  to  attitudinizing.  Large  natures 
are  simple,  direct,  straightforward,  truthful,  not 
addicted  to  tricks  and  sinuosities.  Old  New 
England  blood  is  not  apt  to  be  dramatio  in  the 
cramping,  three-wall  stage  of  a  theatre  built  by 
man ;  rather  only  in  the  vast  theatre  which  has 
earth's  mountains  for  its  back-curtain,  river- 
valleys  for  its  wings,  rolling  prairies  for  its 
floor  and  the  Almighty  as  scene-shifter;  and  in 
dramas  of  self-denial,  self-reliance,  religious 
consecration;  works  which  would  shame  the 
Titans.  In  such  theatres  of  God  Anglo-Saxon 
blood  has  played,  here  in  America,  various  of 
the  greatest  dramas  of  mankind. 

That  blood  is  commonly  too  sincere,  too  un- 
conscious of  any  but  its  duties  to  be  dramatic  in 
posturings,  in  phrases.  "He  that  is  lavish  in 
words,"  said  our  kinsman  of  the  stock,  Sir  Wal- 
ter Raleigh,  "he  that  is  lavish  in  words,  is  a 
niggard  in  deeds." 

And  yet  Colonel  Perry  and  his  family  came 
from  a  Connecticut  town!  How  it  happened, 
what  urgency  led  to  the  exodus,  no  one  could 
tell.  The  Colonel  may  have  fallen  heir,  as  we 
above  intimated,  to  a  sum  which,  to  an  unimag- 
inative mind,  had  no  end.  Mortals  sometimes 


110  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

suffer  that  way.  And  when  the  experience 
comes,  they  not  infrequently  want  to  slough  off 
the  old  home  and  find  new  fields  for  their  ac- 
tivities. 

In  this  instance  in  Laurel  Town,  as  reports 
elsewhere,  money  made  the  mare  go.  Glitter 
of  new  things,  and  rattle,  especially  of  harnesses 
of  high-stepping  steeds,  attract.  Folks  less 
colorful,  less  temperamental)  of  the  soft-grey 
weave  of  respectability  and  quiet  manners, 
rushed  to  call  upon  the  new  arrivals. 

The  daughter  Maggie,  not  openly  disdainful 
of,  hut  seemingly  disregarding  Laurel  Town 
girls,  imported  a  confidante  from  her  old  home. 
One  evening  the  two  were  at  a  party  Mrs.  Means 
gave  to  her  visiting  sister. 

A.  thunder  storm  had  crashed  down  upon 
Laurel  Town  that  afternoon.  Rain  came  in 
sheets.  Thunder  rolled  so  continuously  that  it 
seemed  one  vast  rumble,  now  in  the  zenith,  now 
off  on  the  horizon.  And  electricity  had  been 
so  fluidly  intense  that  it  fairly  balled  in  red 
light  and  shot  about  amid  the  greenery. 

After  the  storm  the  air  stood  in  cfrenched 
stillness,  weary  with  excessive  action.  From 
the  land  vapors  slowly  rose  and  stood  envelop- 
ing Mount  Oread.  Birds  kept  silent.  Leaves 
hung  in  perpendicular  from  weight  of  the  waters 


IN   LAUREL  TOWN  111 

which  had  washed  them.  Mosses  stood  out, 
their  every  feather-tip  surfeited. 

The  evening  of  this  superb  spectacle,  when 
supper  was  serving  a  thin,  little  voice  shrilled, 
"Do  bring  me  some  pepper.  Why!  I  never  eat 
ice-cream  without  pepper."  The  speaker  was 
Maggie. 

"Pepper!"  I  exclaimed  to  myself.  "Shades 
of  Brillat-Savarin !  If  it  were  ginger;  that 
might  conserve  taste."* 

Not  long  after  the  pepper-box  service  Miss 
Maggie  married  a  suitor  who  had  come  for  her 
all  the  way  from  the  Connecticut  valley.  Her 
daddy's  bank  closed  its  doors.  Gossip  said  he 
had  fallen  by  the  wiles  of  Income,  a  jade  ever 
deceitful  and  flippant  in  intimacies ;  and  in  spite 
of  the  parasitic  conditions  which  he  declared  he 
suffered  at  the  time  of  his  dramatic  debut  in 
Laurel  Town,  Income  had  given  him  the  mitten. 

Purse-pride  rarely  touched  Laurel  Townfolk. 
Their  self-gratulation  had  its  fountain  in  self- 
reliant  honesty  of  purpose,  action,  speech,  for 
the  most  part,  and  in  like  sturdy  qualities  of 

*Perhaps  the  order  was  more  qualmish  because  in  those 
days  I  was  delighting  in  the  twenty-four  books  of  "The 
Iliad,"  even  to  the  heroes'  feasts.  Then,  too,  that  was 
years  before  I  had  seen  much  besides  our  old  Anglo-Ameri- 
can cookery ;  before  I  had  seen  foreign  epicures,  and 
Americans  imitating  foreigners,  serve  such  mix-ups  as  roast 
chicken  en  garniture  with  onions  and  cauliflower. 


112  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

ancestor  and  race.  After  all,  it  was  only  the 
newly  rich  who  flaunted  pride  of  purse  and  put 
their  money  into  display. 


The  social  life  of  the  little  burg  fell  mainly 
along  cleavages  of  church  membership — a  fact 
often  true  of  older  and  larger  cities.  In  Laurel 
Town  it  was  sun-clear. 

Now,  just  as  the  Puritan,  his  self-government, 
his  demand  for  individual  freedom,  is  the  very 
core  of  our  American  nationality  to-day,  so  his 
compelling  spirituality  has  colored  all  religions 
in  our  midst. 

At  times  you  met  the  Puritans'  stern  sincerity, 
their  fidelity  to  principle,  their  contempt  for 
riches  and  prosperity  when  weighed  against  the 
moral  law.  Again  you  found  the  touching  con- 
viction, deep-seated  in  our  hearts  and  causing 
rigid  self-examination — again  and  again  you 
saw  the  rudimentary  moral  conviction,  pathetic 
in  its  reversion  to  early  Hebrew  ideas,  that  ma- 
terial prosperity  walks  hand  in  hand  with  moral 
goodness,  an  enduring  witness  of  the  approval 
of  the  Supreme  Giver. 

And  you  heard  over  and  over  the  demand  that 


IN   LAUEEL  TOWN  113 

no  power  stand  between  the  weak  human  and 
the  Lasting  Type — naturally  you  would  in  a 
state  whose  life,  not  far  back,  had  been  intense 
and  dramatic. 

"Don't  you,"  hotly  asked  a  clergyman  of  a 
staid  and  blameless  resident  of  the  little  city, 
"Don't  you  believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ?" 

"Yes,  I  do,"  returned  the  laic,  rising  to  the 
same  degree  of  heat.  "But  there  are  too  damned 
many  middlemen. 

"I  have  sometimes  feared,"  the  layman  went 
on,  "that  Kansas  might  become  what  Andrew 
Lang  defined  India  to  be." 

"What! — what's  that?"  asked  the  cleric  turn- 
ing swiftly  and  eying  his  companion. 

' '  The  secular  home  of  driveling  creeds  and  of 
religion  in  her  sacerdotage,"  calmly  answered 
the  citizen. 

Keligion's  practical  expression — we  do  not 
speak  of  religion  itself,  communion  between  the 
soul  and  the  Infinite  and  consequent  peace  and 
trust;  but  practical  religion,  our  duty  to  give 
ourselves  to  human  works  in  helpfulness,  in 
truth  and  joy  had  open  force  those  days  in 
Laurel  Town.  All  citizens  knew  that  a  man  may 
hide  himself  in  every  other  way,  but  he  can  not 
in  his  works — a  momentous  law  which  holds  true 
of  women,  also. 


114  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

The  story  of  how  the  Episcopal  ladies  took  in 
washing  bears  witness : — 

Those  workers  of  picturesque  Trinity  wanted 
to  buy  a  new  carpet  for  the  main  aisle ;  or  per- 
haps they  were  after  new  bellows  for  the  organ ; 
something  of  the  sort,  at  any  rate. 

"It  happened  years  ago,"  said  the  man  who 
told  the  tale,  "and  I've  been  doing  a,  lot  of  think- 
ing ever  since,  till  I've  concluded  roping  in  our 
wives  and  mothers  is  a  sneaking  way  we  have  of 
fixing  up  our  churches — we  men  in  business 
meetings  voting  a  thing  shall  be  done  and  leav- 
ing the  women  to  gather  money  to  pay  for  it. 

"In  this  town,  and  in  others,  too,  I've  seen 
the  game  played  again  and  again.  And  did  you 
ever  find  the  women  failing  to  rise  to  the  occa- 
sion?— what  with  their  oyster-suppers  and 
chicken-dinners,  their  Saturday  morning  sales 
of  pies  and  cakes,  their  rummage-auctions  and 
every  other  means  their  clever  heads  and  faith- 
ful hearts  can  plan  and  willing  hands  execute! 

"I  notice  the  Presbyterians,  at  least  in  Laurel 
Town,  don't  so  often  resort  to  such  subterfuges 
for  church  up-keep.  There's  some  incalculable 
thing  in  Presbyterian  teachings,  it)  seems  to  me, 
that  makes  good  financiers — some  indefinable 
quality  acting  on  the  mind  and  judgment.  That's 
true  of  the  Unitarians',  also;  and  true  of  the 


IN   LAUBEL   TOWN  115 

Jews'.  Perhaps  it  is  because  their  religion  is 
not  so  emotional.  They  don't  submerge  them- 
selves in  a  surging  sea  of  sensations  which  have 
no  deedy  outlet.  Their  devotees  are  more  mas- 
ters of  themselves,  calmly  abiding  in  a  sort  of 
practical  religiosity — like  a  Jacob's,  prayerful, 
yet  subtle — not  swaying  in  mysticism,  choking 
for  utterance  of  what  can  not  be  put  into  human 
words.  "Where  Prcsbyterianism  prevails  the 
people  are  canny. 

"But  I'm  losing  my  story.  As  I  was  saying, 
in  those  times  the  ladies  of  Trinity  Church  were 
taking  in  washing,  I  used  to  lay  my  way  home 
to  mid-day  meal  just  to  see  the  plucky  workers 
hard  at  it. 

"They  met  at  Mrs.  Green's  because  she  had 
no  end  of  soft  cistern  water,  plenty  of  yard; 
plenty  of  curtain  stretchers^  too.  Then  she  her- 
self had  such  a  faculty  for  putting  things 
through !  Out  in  her  side-yard,  or  back  behind 
the  grape  trellis,  I'd  see  the  women  skirmishing 
with  the  tubs. 

"There  was  Mra.  Arnold  who  took  mathe- 
matical honors  at  Cornell ;  and  washing  was  not 
included  in  her  curriculum.  Like  as  not  she'd 
be  standing  before  a  tub  sozzling  and  pounding 
with  one  of  these  suction  punchers.  A  couple 
of  others  would  be  dashing  the  white  things  in 


116  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

blue  water,  and  another  group  chattering  and 
laughing  while  they  hooked  the  lace  and  thin 
stuff  along  stretcher-poles. 

"And  above  would  arch  the  Kansas  sky,  and 
below  would  roll  Kansas  blue  grass,  and  in  mid- 
air of  elnVbranch.es  robins  would  carol  and  jays 
scream,  and  wrens  chatter  from  porch  crannies, 
and  perhaps  you  would  catch  sight  of  a  rose- 
breasted  grosbeak  hiding  in  the  shade.  Lord! 
I  used  to  say  to  myself  as  I  passed  by,  could 
there  be  a  prettier  sight !  Or  one  more  indica- 
tive of  our  race's  active,  bold,  progressive  self- 
respect!  Or  of  our  religion  of  helpfulness, 
holding  together,  protective  defence  of  the 
group !  Or  of  our  state's  motto,  'Work  through 
trials  and  we  shall  reach  the  stars !' 

"  Of  course  the  women  won.  They  always  do 
wii*.  They  washed  all  the  curtains  in  town,  I 
guess.  I  don't  know  whether  they  washed  all 
the  curtains  of  neighboring  towns,  or  not.  I 
rather  think  they  did. 

"And  in  the  end  they  laughed  right  merrily 
at  us  men,  who  had  lacked  gumption  to  devise 
means  to  buy  the  carpet,  or  whatever  it  was, 
after  we  had  voted  the  church  must  have  it. 

"Then,  too,  tha  women  laughed  at  certain 
critics  who,  "when  they  started  out,  laughed  at 
them.  But  it  was  the  gentle  laughter  of  the 


IN   LAUREL  TOWN  117 

one  who  laughs  best  because  he  laughs  right- 
eously and  last." 

Other  congregations,  also,  had  their  legends 
founded  on  folk  characteristics.  There  was,  for 
instance,  the  tale  about  Adoniram  Kellner.  You 
will  probably  agree  with  his  workfellows  that 
the  most  merciful,  the  final,  judgment  is  that 
Adoniram  meant  better  than  he  did. 

To  say  Adoniram  Kellner  is  to  call  before 
your  eyes  Mary  Louise,  daughter  of  a  whole- 
some mother  who  enjoyed  an  apron  string  forty 
inches  long;  and  an  equally  plethoric  father,  a 
coal  merchant  with  a  bank-account  as  plethoric 
as  himself  and  his  amiable  consort. 

A  red-brick,  broad-door  dwelling,  that  also 
large  in  girth  and  smiling-eyed,  in  the  midst  of 
lawn,  shrubs  and  graceful  elms,  formed  the  shell 
of  their  blessed  home. 

The  joy  and  sunshine  of  that  home  was  a 
daughter,  coddled  and  petted  all  her  short  life. 
By  gentle  askings,  by  loving  mildness,  ready 
obedience  and  duty  to  parents,  Mary  Louise  had 
gained  whatever  ends  her  little  mind  chanced 
to  seek.  The  family-life  was  as  the  angels'  in 
heaven. 

In  church"  work  and  the  Sunday-school  to 
which  Mary  Louise  devoted  her  sweet  effi- 
ciencies, was  another  laborer,  a  young  man 


118  CEBTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

studying  at  the  university — Adoniram  Kellner 
himself,  built  after  an  ample,  well-fleshed,  Teu- 
tonic model,  features  indefinitely  cut  and  small 
eyes  looking  out  from  a  rubescent  complexion 
and  thatch  of  reddish  hair. 

Not  a  joy  forever  in  looks,  you  say.  But  in 
devoutness,  we  answer,  in  what  he  termed  devo- 
tion to  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord  he  led  every 
junior  member.  No  one  at  the  Sunday-school 
so  always  early  and  at  hand ;  to  see  chairs  were 
in  line,  singing  books  in  place,  temperature  at 
sixty-eight  degrees  Fahrenheit.  No  one  else 
stayed  so  late.  No  other  so  apt  at  making  Scrip- 
ture quotations  in  just  the  right  place,  at  just 
the  telling  second.  Any  one  with  half  an  eye 
could  see  he  was  bent  on  doing  the  right  thing. 

This  mere  gate-keeping  in  the  vineyard,  to 
use  his  phrase,  at  one  time  so  lifted  his  spirit 
that  he  felt  he  had  a  call  from  On  High.  Yet, 
after  completer  examination  of  his  heart  in  the 
privacy  of  his  closet,  he  determined  he  could 
benefit  a  world  waiting  for  energetic,  efficient 
practicians,  by  giving  himself  to  banking  six 
days  in  the  week,  supplemented  by  teachings  of 
a  zealous  faith  whenever  opportunity  afforded. 

Therefore  Adoniram  dismissed  thought  of  the 
ministry.  Yet  he  frequented  canvas  tents  into 
which  evangelists,  devoted  to  the  awakening  of 


IN   LAUEEL  TOWN  119 

souls,  gathered  friends  of  summer  evenings.  At 
such  meetings  Adoniram's  petitions  excited  out- 
spoken admiration.  "The  sweet  humility  of 
them!"  the  ladies  said.  "We  give  thanks,"  he 
cried  one  evening,  "for  this  new  and  beautiful 
tent  in  which  we  meet — ahem — for  this  piano  to 
lead  us  in  joyous  song — ahem — for  these  chairs 
— ahem — for  this  sawdust;  we  give  thanks  for 
this  sawdust!" 

Adoniram  had  a  rather  striking  voice;  it 
sounded  just  as  unbaked  cake  tastes ;  that  is,  to 
the  aural  palate  it  had  the  savors  of  raw,  sweet 
dough  to  the  tongue. 

In  his  duty  as  general  aide  to  the  superintend- 
ent of  the  Sunday-school  Adoniram  gathered  re- 
ports from  teachers,  and  so  it  fell  that  he  had 
Dften  to  go  over  to  the  corner  where  Mary  Louise 
lisped  stories  of  Noah's  dove,  and  Moses  in  the 
bulrushes,  and  Elisha  and  his  bears  to  a  group 
of  little  girls.  Out  of  her  frills  of  lace,  or  furs, 
as  weather  might  demand,  Mary  Louise's  blue 
eyes  would  look  up  to  Adoniram's  face,  and 
smiles  would  play  about  her  innocent  mouth  as 
she  told  what  the  children  of  her  class  were 
learning  and  giving. 

Now,  if  you  have  any  fancy  for  reading  the 
future  without  a  crystal  ball,  and  if  you  had 
seen  the  expression  in  Adoniram's  eyes,  and  if 


120  CEETAIN  WHO  DWELT 

you  had  noticed  his  carriage  toward  those,  pos- 
sessed of  this  world's  goods — for  a  pinch  of 
Uriah  Heep  as  well  as  a  dash  of  Pecksniff  had 
gone  to  the  making  of  Adoniram;  moreover,  if 
you  took  into  consideration  Mary  Louise's  prob- 
able, ultimate  bank  account,  you  could  reason 
with  moderate  exactness  that  the  young  man 
would  seek  the  lady's  hand  in  marriage. 

It  all  happened  that  away.  Adoniram  pro- 
posed the  winter  he  was  a  college  senior.  Papa 
and  Mama  Huddleston  considered  his  devout- 
ness,  his  irreproachable  conduct  wherever  they 
had  seen  him,  his  clear,  logical  thinking,  his 
very  evident  helpfulness.  With  results  that  the 
month  that  brought  Adoniram's  winning  of  a 
bachelor's  degree,  gave  also  to  Adoniram  that 
happiest  circle  of  a  man's  life  —  his  wedding 
day. 

One  luscious  June  evening  Mary  Louise's 
Sunday-school  associates  gathered  in  the  ample 
parlors  of  her  home,  full-lit  and  hung  with 
roses,  and  then  and  there  her  pastor  united  her 
to  the  greatest  hero  within  her  horizon. 

Long  before  the  wedding  came,  in  planning 
the  journey  to  follow  their  espousal,  Adoniram 
had  completely  given  Mary  Louise  her  wilL 
"Just  as  you  wish;  whatever  you  like;"  he  had 
said;  and  so  she  determined  they  were  to  stay 


IN   LAUBBL  TOWN  121 

at  her  home  till  they  should  take  flight  the 
morning  following  the  marriage. 

From  this  arrangement  it  fell  that  that  night, 
after  the  wedding,  Mary  Louise  stood  with  tooth- 
brush in  hand  and  clad  in  little  beruffled,  belaced 
nightgown,  when,  after  pacing  half  an  hour  in 
the  shrubbery,  Adoniram  entered  her  room. 

In  he  walked  calmly  enough;  just  as  if  he 
were  used  to  that  chamber,  into  which  he  had 
merely  peeped  before  when  it  had  served  as 
ladies'  cloak-room  for  church  societies — in  he 
walked  and  pulled  a  chair  to  the  middle  of  the 
room  and  sat  down. 

"Come  here,  missy,"  he  called  to  the  smiling 
bride,  signing  with  his  right  forefinger  from  her 
to  himself,  but  without  any  other  word  or  ac- 
tion, "Come  here." 

Mary  Louise  came. 

"Now  kneel  down  here  at  my  knee,"  laying  a 
hand  over  that  articulation  of  his  body,  "and 
say  your  prayers.  .We'll  begin  as  we  expect  to 
go  on,"  he  added. 

A  malleable  little  soul,  dutiful,  unacquainted 
with  rebellion  in  all  her  twenty  protected  years, 
never  necessarily  assertive  of  self — what  did 
Mary  Louise  do?  Through  all  her  life  she  had 
done  what  those  she  trusted  told  her  to  do. 
Naturally  she  did  that  now. 


122  CEBJAIN  WHO  DWELT 

She  knelt,  and  covering  her  face  with  her 
hands  resting  against  her  bridegroom's  knee,  she 
prayed  aloud — Adoniram  improving  her  expres- 
sion as  she  went  on. 

Next  morning  the  couple  stood  waiting  on  the 
porch  for  the  family-carriage  to  take  them  to 
the  train.  June  sunlight,  song  of  turtle-dove 
and  thrush,  fragrance  of  clustering  roses  had 
put  last  night's  humiliation  from  the  tender 
heart  of  Mary  Louise,  and  her  sweet  face  told 
how  her  mind  was  turned  towards  the  journey. 

"  Daughter  darling,"  called  her  mother  at  the 
last  moment,  bustling  forward  with  purse  in 
hand,  "when  you  are  in  New  York  you'll  want 
to  buy  a  few  pretties;"  and  she  handed  Mary 
Louise  a  hundred  dollar  bill. 

Adoniram's  ears  heard  the  mother's  cooing 
voice.  His  eyes  saw  the  gift. 

That  afternoon,  when  the  train  had  nosed  its 
way  out  of  Kansas  City  and  was  leaping  east- 
ward over  the  sunset-dyed  lands  of  Missouri, 
he  said  to  the  trusting  lady  at  his  side,  "Hand 
that  one  hundred  dollars  to  me,  missy,  I  can 
take  care  of  it." 

The  wife  undid  her  porte-monnaie  and  gave 
her  husband  the  bill. 

Yet  her  spirits  were  not  daunted.  Such  glori- 
ous days  ahead!  The  great  metropolis,  its 


IS   LAUEEL.  TOWN  123 

churches,  its  music,  its  hotels,  its  tens  of 
thousands  of  people  every  waking  hour!  May 
be  Adoniram  would  take  her  to  a  theatre  or 
two! 

The  train  sped  on.  Tzu-tzu-tzu  it  sang. 
Eickety-rick,  rickety-rick,  rickety-rick  through 
many  hours.  And  finally,  in  the  calm  of  an 
evening,  leaped  alongside  the  waters  of  the 
Hudson  till  its  monster  eyes  sighted  the 
metropolis. 

Mary  Louise  now  spoke  of  a  hotel,  the  Fifth 
Avenue  over  on  Twenty-third  Street,  where  her 
mother  told  her  they  should  put  up.  "Which 
way  from  the  station  did  it  lie?"  she  wondered. 

"No,"  answered  Adoniram,  "we'll  take  a  fur- 
nished room." 

They  walked  about  till  they  found  one. 

For  their  comfort,  in  case  of  railway  accident, 
Mary  Louise's  mother  had  packed  food  in  a 
lunch  basket.  After  they  had  eaten  what  the 
lady's  generous  hands  stowed  away,  Adoniram 
replenished  the  store  at  grocers'  counters.  They 
picniced  in  the  midst  of  enticing  eating-houses. 

Still,  their  days  were  full  of  wonders  and  joys 
which  an  English  poet,  after  his  own  nuptials, 
declared  should  belong  to  the  "treacle-moon." 

At  last  time  came  for  winging  their  way  home- 
ward. Their  journey  ended  in  the  dwelling 


124:  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

Adoniram  bad  chosen  not  far  from  the  bank 
in  his  home-town,  Minnehaha. 

Summer  passed. 

Autumn's  chill  lay  over  the  land.  One  eve- 
ning they  had  in  a  few  friends,  and  the  com- 
pany sat  about  the  dining-table  cracking  nuts 
and  telling  stories.  Finally  the  talk  drifted  to 
what  would  make  each  "perfectly  happy."  One 
would  start  next  week  for  a  hunting  trip  in 
Australia.  Another  would  buy  an  orange  grove 
in  Florida.  A  third  would  spend  summers  on 
his  own  yacht  off  the  New  England  coast. 

Adoniram  was  silent.  At  last,  upon  appeal, 
he  fell  to  telling  his  supreme  choice :  Granting 
at  the  outset  an  income  that  would  free  him  from 
need  of  counting  costs — then,  broad,  spacious 
rooms;  a  fireplace  in  which  crackled  logs;  a 
piano  for  improvising,  if  he  chose;  carefully 
chosen  books  lining  the  walls,  with  now  and  then 
a  Raffael  Morghen. 

So  spoke  Adoniram. 

"And  me,"  added  Mary  Louise  after  a  mo- 
ment's pause,  looking  towards  her  husband  with 
a  wistful  smile. 

"No-o-o,"  answered  Adoniram  slowly,  eyes 
narrowing  as  if  balancing  values,  and  voice 
taking  a  downward  inflection,  "Not  necessarily 
you-u-u." 


IN   LAUREL  TOWN  125 

Winter  pushed  forward;  and  storms  which 
held  Adoniram  at  home  even  of  daylight  hours, 
and  found  him  keeping  on  as  he  had  started. 
Every  night,  after  her  day  spent  according  to  the 
meticulous  direction  of  her  spouse,  Mary  Louise 
knelt  at  his  knee  and  said  her  prayer,  which, 
before  its  flight  to  The  Giver,  Adoniram  crit- 
icised and  "bettered." 

Her  face  had  lost  the  soft,  laughing  sweetness 
of  her  girlhood.  Her  smile  seemed  a  ghost  of 
habit. 

Still,  no  word  of  complaint  escaped  the  little 
woman,  or  colored  her  letters  to  her  old  home. 
Save  once,  "I  had  no  idea  what  life  was,  mama 
darling,"  her  sad  heart  at  last  dared  to  say. 
"Why,  I  didn't  know  I  had  always  been  carried 
about  like  a  kitten  in  a  basket  on  your  dear 
arm." 

But  springs  do  come  in  spite  of  the  distortion 
of  man,  and  when  lilac  bushes  purpled  at  Minne- 
haha,  and  snow-ball  trees  whitened,  Mary 
Louise's  boy  was  born. 

What  a  doting,  delighted  grandmother ! — who 
had  declared  a  new  milch  cow  should  welcome 
that  blessed  baby;  a  grandmother  who  had  em- 
ployed a  dairyman  to  search  the  county  and  find 
the  best. 

A  few  hours  after  the  birth  of  her  child  Mary 


126  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

Louise  lay  half  asleep,  shutting  out  the  light 
by  snuggling  towards  the  wall,  when  her  hus- 
band came  to  her  bedside  and  asked  a  question. 

In  her  weakness  the  little  woman  only  half- 
sensed  his  presence.  But  when  he  repeated, 
"Where  did  you  put  the  cream  from  last  night's 
milk?"  seizing  the  tip  of  her  nose  between  his 
right  forefinger  and  thumb  and  turning  her  face 
towards  himself,  adding,  "I'll  teach  you  to 
answer  me,  missy,"  he  thoroughly  roused  her. 

Day  by  day  after  that,  the  nurse  could  get 
little  cream  for  the  invalid's  use ;  it  seemed  as  if 
someone  took  it  off,  or  the  new  milch  cow  did 
not  give  normal  milk.  Moreover,  wrote  the 
nurse  to  the  grandparents  in  Laurel  Town — 
moreover,  her  patient  suffered  depression,  had 
spells  of  silent  weeping  and  showed  no  reaction 
to  enjoyment. 

"What  is  the  mystery?"  queried  the  dame  of 
the  ample  apron-string;  and  she  took  the  train 
for  Minnehaha.  In  that  little  borough  she  vi- 
brated between  her  daughter's  bedside  and  the 
milk  pans,  dipping  off  the  cream  in  precious 
spoonfuls,  her  mother-tenderness  coaxing  world- 
weary  Mary  Louise  back  to  strength — till,  at 
last,  in  the  flood  of  early  June  beauty,  just  as 
Michigan  creepers  and  Baltimore  bells  were 
again  hanging  out  their  clusters,  she  could  bring 


IN    LAUREL,  TOWN  127 

the  poor  ewe  lamb,  and  her  lambkin,  to  dwell  in 
the  broad-door,  smiling-eyed  home. 

Suit  for  separation  and  divorce  Mary  Louise 
based  on  grounds  of  incompatibility  of  habits. 
The  court  listened  to  her  testimony,  granted  her 
plea  and  gave  her  baby  to  her  keeping. 

Adoniram  went  from  one  success  to  another. 
Still,  time  had  its  effect  on  him,  too.  Years 
after  he  spoke  of  the  need  of  straightening  dis- 
torted conceptions,  and  of  humanizing  old-time 
practices,  if  we  would  meet  present-day  prob- 
lems. 

VI. 

"A  notable  occasion"  the  newspapers  of 
Laurel  Town  called  the  Honorable  Robert  Bor- 
row's  birthday  party. 

History  was  making,  Kansas  struggling  for 
rights  and  look  toward  stateship,  when  Mr.  Bor- 
row came  from  New  Jersey.  He  served  in  the 
first  Kansas  senate  and,  "a  man  of  high  char- 
acter and  fine  abilities,"  helped  make  Kansas  a 
state;  local  papers  said  "a  great  state." 

And  now  serene  old  age,  an  easing  sense  of 
triumph  at  having  left  the  tragedies  of  action 
behind,  of  a  peace  forerunning  the  ultimate 
sleep,  blessed  him.  This  cool,  clear  evening  in 
October  men  who  had  shared  with  him  the  good 


128  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

and  ill  of  fortune  were  assembling  at  his  bidding, 
each  enjoying,  also,  harvests  of  long-yeared  in- 
telligence and  energy.  For,  in  Laurel  Town, 
what  Pericles  told  his  fellow  citizens  in  Athens 
some  twenty-three  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago 
held  true;  "To  avow  poverty  with  us  is  no  dis- 
grace ;  the  true  disgrace  is  in  doing  nothing  to 
avoid  it." 

They  came  through  the  open  doorway,  these 
elderly  men,  and  put  their  names,  adding  also 
their  ages,  in  a  guest-book  at  hand:  W.  S.  Mc- 
Curdy,  eighty-eight;  Wm.  Yates,  eighty-two; 
Forest  Savage,  seventy-nine;  C.  L.  Edwards, 
seventy-six;  C.  A.  Hanscom,  seventy-four;  O.  E. 
Learnard,  seventy-two;  Ely  Moore,  seventy- 
three;  George  Banks,  sixty-nine;  George  Gros- 
venor,  seventy-five;  R.  G.  Elliott,  seventy- 
seven;  Frank  H.  Snow,  sixty-five;  a  complete 
list  would  be  long.  Colonel  Learnard  had  been 
member  of  the  first  Territorial  Council.  Five 
of  the  guests  were  in  Laurel  Town  the  first  win- 
ter Free-State  men  spent  in  Kansas. 

After  the  dinner,  which  had  not  forgotten  the 
nectar  best  loved  by  Pomona,  Douglas  County 
cider — after  the  dinner,  the  company,  retired 
to  the  spaciousness  of  the  parlors,  resting  in 
easy  chairs,  called  to  your  mind  those  grey- 
beards of  one  outstanding  day  that  Homer 


IN   LA.UEEL  TOWN  129 

sings,  "  hoary  elders,  done  with  war  but  good 
at  counselling  in  assembly,  sitting  rejoicing  like 
grasshoppers  on  a  tree  down  in  the  woods,  and 
talking,  but  in  a  voice  as  slender  as  a  lily." 

They  had  no  repining,  no  lament  at  growing 
old,  those  old-young  men — a  gracious  pride, 
rather,  that  they  stored  so  many  golden  deeds 
in  memory.  And  their  eagerness  in  reviving 
minutest  details  of  old-time  joys,  and  now  veiled 
sorrows,  was  heart-moving  to  see.  To  their 
vision  every  picture  of  their  stirring  early  years 
stood  suffused  with  its  own  brilliant  colors. 
Recollections  of  later  days  might  be  dimming. 
But  that  past  of  theirs ! — robbed  of  every  poig- 
nant pain  they  had  felt  in  its  moment,  fear  of 
defeat  forgotten,  hostilities  overcome,  rivalries 
of  younger  years  given  way  to  admiration  for 
others'  accomplishment;  their  past  shown  with 
refulgent  glory.  Involuntary  impulse  of  Anglo- 
Saxons  against  display  of  sentiment  alone  kept 
them  from  what  they  might  term  "slopping 
over";  making  the  sentiment  they  voiced  the 
sincerer. 

"The  old  boys  were  young  again,"  Laurel 
Town  papers  reported  of  the  meeting.  "Sharp 
wits  undulled  by  age  engaged  in  apt  repartee.  .  . 
One  incident  recalled  another,  one  story  another, 
and  laughter  and  song  filled  the  hours." 


130  CEKTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

"Eastern  people  and  papers  jest  about  Kan- 
sas," cried  one  white-head,  "they  say  we  are 
erratic,  impulsive,  even  that  we  are  insane.  I'd 
rather  be  insane  in  Kansas  than  sane  where  there 
isn't  an  idea  afloat  but  money-getting  and 
money-spending.  I  take  notice  there  are  some- 
things they  don't  say  about  Kansas.  They  don't 
say  we  haven't  convictions.  They  don't  say  we 
don't  act  what  we  think.  In  those  early  days  of 
Kansas  we  fought  for  human  liberty,  and  to-day, 
and,  I  believe,  for  all  days,  we'll  fight  on  the 
same  line. 

"My  experience  when  I  went  down  into  Per- 
simmon County  is  fair  example  of  those  boom- 
ing old  times.  No  state  in  the  Union  had  had  so 
phenomenal  a  growth.  No  wheat  fields  had 
yielded  such  harvests.  No  corn  lands  had  ever 
run  miles  on  miles  together  over  a  fat  loam. 

"Streams  of  wagons,  caravan  after  caravan, 
came  over  the  hills.  Their  folks  would  camp 
by  a  likely  stream.  Straightway  a  town  was 
there.  And  before  the  nearby  field  of  oats  could 
turn  its  heads  from  green  to  yellow,  the  town 
would  be  a  city. 

"But  its  rival  would  spring  up  a  few  miles 
away.  Then  the  politicians  of  the  two  settle- 
ments would  battle  to  make  their  town  the 
county  seat. 


IN   LAUBEL  TOWN  131 

"Soon  the  healthy  young  county-seat  would 
want  a  railway.  Not  many  days,  and  along 
would  meander  some  promoter,  like  Isaac  L. 
Monash.  You've  all  heard  of  Isaac  L.  I  knew 
him.  Oh,  he  was  not  the  only  pebble  on  the 
beach  in  those  times ! 

"Grip  in  hand  Isaac  stepped  off  the  train, 
climbed  into  the  bus  for  the  Central  House,  and 
registered  there.  Then  he  called  on  the  editor 
of  the  city's  daily.  Over  in  Wall  Street  Abra- 
ham and  Emanuel  Shekels  were  wanting  to  build 
a  railroad.  In  his  pocket  Isaac  had  printed  slips 
telling  about  Abraham,  living  in  New  York; 
and  Emanuel,  the  younger,  head  of  the  London 
house,  who  had  married  an  English  wife  and  got 
himself  a  knighthood  and  was  known  as  Sir 
Emanuel.  Isaac  L.  had  come  west  representing 
the  Shekelses,  to  find  out  a  way  for  a  new  rail- 
road— a  clean  cut  to  Texas  cattle-plains  and  the 
Rockies. 

"Now,  if  the  Shekelses  and  Isaac  L.  built  that 
road  it  would  be  a  road  to  brag  about,  an  A. 
number  one — not  the  road  alone,  but  all  its  roll- 
ing stock,  its  total  management  from  the  first 
furrow  for  its  grading  to  its  daily  cannon-ball 
express.  It  would  cross  the  Neosho  and  the 
Verdigris.  It  would  travel  the  limitless  lengths 
of  the  Arkansas.  It  would  pierce  the  mountains 


132  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

of  Colorado,  bring  the  metal  of  the  mines  to  our 
furnaces  and  farmers,  and  take  back  fruits  of 
their  labors  to  folks  living  on  the  whole  east 
side  of  the  Rockies. 

"Did  we  people  want  that  road?  Isaac  L. 
asked  through  the  editor  of  the  city's  daily. 

"Want  the  road?  Folks  were  mad  for  it. 
They  could  hardly  wait  for  Isaac  L.  to  tell  them 
what  to  do. 

"So,  just  like  the  orientals  in  books  we  read 
when  we  were  kids,  Isaac  L.  clapped  his  hands, 
so  to  speak,  and  a  gang  of  husky  Irish  lads  came 
over  the  hills  lugging  chain  and  transit.  And 
every  farm-owner  in  the  neighborhood  went 
about  bidding  for  a  chance  to  entertain  those 
road-makers. 

"By  the  way,  the  law  broke  on  me  then,  for 
the  first  time,  that  it  is  the  Jew  who  employs 
the  Irish,  not  the  Irish  who  employ  the  Jew. 
One  day  I  asked  a  soncie  woman  why  all  their 
clannish  hanging  together. 

' '  *  Sor/  she  returned,  true  to  the  Irish  instinct 
for  putting  a  question  in  answer,  'And  haven't 
the  pair  of  us  the  two  oldest  religions  in  the 
world!  Is  it  asleep  ye  are?' 

"Well,  down  there  in  Persimmon  County, 
after  the  Irish  boys  had  measured  the  land, 
people  met  to  vote  the  bonds.  How  it  happened 


IN   LAUREL  TOWN  133 

I  never  could  see.  Strangely  enough  the  town- 
ship voting  the  biggest  aid  in  bonds  was  found 
to  offer  the  only  available  route  for  the  road! 
County  donations  and  perpetual  exemption  from 
taxes  followed.  Land-owners  claimed  the  priv- 
ilege of  themselves  giving  the  right  of  way. 

"Then  they  turned  out  with  their  teams,  and 
ploughs,  and  scrapers,  and  hired  men,  and  put 
bed-making  through,  carrying  on  the  grade  more 
than  a  mile  a  day. 

"Ah,  those  were  jubilee  times!  Farmers  with 
timber  cut  down  their  noble  old  trees  and  turned 
beams  for  bridges  from  the  sawmills.  Free- 
Soilers  whose  life  had  been  a  total  self-denial, 
who  had  fought  border-ruffians  and  even  taken 
a  turn  with  John  Brown ;  and  after  the  war  was 
over  had  got  as  fat  as  sculpins  on  hopes  deferred 
— rugged  old  fellows  who  had  conscientiously 
followed  Socrates'  advice  to  a  disciple  to  'bor- 
row money  of  himself  by  diminishing  his  wants' 
— hearts-of-oak,  blessed  with  Anglo-Saxon 
sense  of  courtesy,  blessed  with  their  inborn,  in- 
expugnable conviction  of  the  worth  and  dignity 
of  even  the  humblest,  said  'Yes,  sir,'  to  Isaac 
L. ;  and  when  they  went  in-doors  took  off  their 
hats  to  him.  Think  of  it !  Shades  of  our  grand- 
fathers and  their  Revolution ! — Isaac  L.  and  his 
whole  blamed  outfit  not  more  than  a  generation 


134  CEBTAIET  WHO  DWELT 

out  of  a  meaching,  Vilna  ghetto,  beggars  ahorse- 
back, and  destitute  of  that  idea  of  civil  liberty 
which  was  the  very  breath  of  our  old  warriors' 
nostrils;  liberty  for  which  their  blood  had  up- 
built this  country. 

' '  So  far  Isaac  L.  had  not  paid  a  dollar  for  his 
board  at  the  Central  House.  He  was  all  things 
to  all  men,  and  he  had  the  best  the  town  afforded. 
He  even  hobnobbed  with  the  county-treasurer, 
and  secured  an  advance  in  cash  pending  collec- 
tion of  taxes. 

"Finally,  one  morning,  the  bonds  came  down, 
all  printed  at  Topeka  and  signed  by  the  proper 
officials.  They  were  placed  in  an  iron-bound 
safe  which  Ikey  called  a  vault.  Not  a  bond, 
according  to  conditions,  should  be  surrendered 
to  the  railroad  company,  till  the  road  was  ready 
for  the  ties.  Half  the  funds  should  then  be  ad- 
vanced, and  the  rest  the  day  the  first  train 
ran  over  the  track. 

"So  our  folks  worked  away  at  the  grading, 
and  got  it  done  to  the  banks  of  the  "Wahoo.  Then 
Isaac  L.  received  half  the  issue  of  the  bonds. 
He  solemnly  executed  a  formal  receipt;  and 
started  east  for  the  iron. 

"He  never  came  back.  Springs  came  back, 
and  crimson  stars  of  the  prairie- verbena  studded 
the  raw  embankment.  Falls  came  back  and  dry 


IN   LATJBEL   TOWN  135 

September  winds  swayed  sunflowers  over  the 
rotting  oak  sleepers. 

"I  used  to  feel  kind  o'  sorry  for  the  ilk  of 
Isaac  L.  But  after  years  of  observation  on  this 
little  pippin  of  ours,  I  conclude  I  am  sorry  for 
the  other  fellow.  Tell  the  truth,  I  say,  without 
prejudice  and  without  fear. 

' '  Our  people  were,  and  are  imaginers,  dream- 
ers about  an  ideal,  minds  bent  on  the  general 
end,  selfish  with  the  statebuilders'  selfishness. 
Isaac  L.,  on  the  other  hand,  had  two  almost  un- 
failing characteristics  of  his  blood;  what  Marx 
calls  its  commercialism — a  shallow,  puny  prac- 
ticality, and  rapaciousness  always  for  his  nub- 
bin, unsocialized  self;  '0  my  ducats!  0  my 
daughter!'  never  0  other  peoples'  ducats!  0 
other  peoples'  daughters  1" 

Tales  less  stern  came  forward  as  the  evening 
wore  on. 

"You  speak  of  the  growth  of  churches  in 
Laurel  Town  within  the  last  forty  years,"  said 
one  of  the  hoary  boys,  laughing.  l 'Do  you  recall 
how  a  couple  of  students  locked  in  a  congrega- 
tion f  No  ?  Never  heard  of  it !  Well ! 

"One  Sunday  night,  early  in  a  September, 
Ned  Stetson  and  Jim  Galway  went  strolling 
down  Kentucky  Street.  The  fall  term  of  the 
university  had  not  yet  opened  and  buckled  the 


136  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

lads  down  to  work.  That's  the  same  as  saying 
a  little  grinding  hadn't  taken  the  devil  out  of 
their  summer-plethora  hides.  They  were  too 
good-natured  to  live;  in  the  mood  of  over-fed, 
under-exercised  puppies,  full  of  the  pointless 
rage  for  action  that,  when  four-footed,  chews 
up  rugs  and  gnaws  off  dictionary  bindings. 

"We're  all  of  us  puppies,  I've  been  a-noticing 
these  last  seventy  years ;  or  more  likely  calves 
that  God  has  tethered  out  in  this  orchard  of  the 
earth — not  exactly  orchard,  either,  for  some  of 
us  are  staked  on  bleak  hillsides,  and  others  in 
warm  sunny  valleys.  But  whatever  our  fortune 
in  this  world,  each  of  us  sometime  in  life  is  apt 
to  wind  himself  in  his  rope  and  splash  himself 
in  a  puddle. 

"Those  two  boys  came  near  doing  it  that  eve- 
ning. It  was  a  little  after  nine  when,  in  their 
meanderings,  they  reached  an  African  church; 
the  very  moment  the  parson  was  giving  out  the 
last  hymn.  Doors  stood  wide  open,  for  the 
weather  was  hot  as  Tophet. 

"The  two  students,  or  calves,  stopped  on  the 
sidewalk  and  peered  in  upon  the  congregated 
negroes.  As  they  looked,  they  saw  a  large  key 
in  the  outer  side  of  the  double-leaf  doors;  the 
only  doors  of  the  building,  by  the  bye. 

"With  every  soul  in  the  church  that  moment 


IN   LAUREL  TOWN  137 

intent  on  the  singing,  no  one  saw  those  doors 
swing  to ;  nor  heard  the  lock  click ;  nor  the  draw- 
ing out  of  the  key  and  the  laying  it  on  the  outer 
sill. 

"Satan  having  prompted  the  cubs  so  far,  his 
majesty  then  led  them  to  cross  the  street  and 
seat  themselves  in  the  shadow  of  a  hedge  to  see 
what  would  happen. 

"The  hymn  was  long,  the  singers'  enjoyment 
of  it  intense,  and  their  velvet  voices  went 
through  every  line  and  verse.  Then  the  congre- 
gation turned  to  go. 

"One  brother,  amazed  to  find  the  doors  shut, 
grabbed  the  knob  and  turned  it.  Without  re- 
sult. 

"Another,  thinking  the  first  incompetent,  im- 
patiently seized  the  handle  and  shook  the  door 
till  hinges  and  lintels  rattled. 

"  'Strange  dat  dooh  shet  dis  hot  night P 

' '  Other  worshippers  crowded  about  and  tried 
their  strength. 

"  'Open  dat  dooh !'  they  yelled. 

"But  no  answer  came. 

"  'Dat  dooh  is  shuh  done  locked !' 

"Other  efforts  to  force  the  opening  brought 
the  same  judgment. 

"  'Gimme  a  chair,  Elder  Johnson/  cried  one 
of  the  men  after  a  few  minutes  of  reflection, 


138  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

1  gimme  a  chair  or  two  an  I'll  set  em  on  de 
groun,  an  we  can  holp  de  ladies  outer  de 
windows.' 

"No  other  plan  seemed  feasible,,  and  the 
brethren  fell  to  working  out  this  one.  Two  or 
three  climbed  on  the  sills  and  jumped  to  the 
grass  beneath.  Inside  others  were  soon  busy 
boosting  to  window  ledges,  and  passing  down  on 
the  outer  wall  the  giggling,  or  squealing,  but  al- 
ways 'indiginant/  sisters. 

"Meanwhile,  across  the  street  sat  two  young 
Satanites,  peering  through  the  branches  of  a 
hedge,  holding  their  congested  sides  and  rock- 
ing to  and  fro  in  soundless  laughter. 

"Before  all  the  congregation  emerged  win- 
dow-wise, however,  one  of  the  elders  on  outside 
duty  had,  by  dint  of  striking  matches  and  exam- 
ining doorway,  found  the  key,  and  the  tag-end 
of  the  congregation  passed  out  as  usual." 

"That  Jim  Galway  you  tell  of,"  broke  in  a 
Laurel  Town  character,  "isn't  he  the  one  who 
went  over  to  London1?" 

"Somebody  asked  his  nationality  the  other 
day,  said  he  was  a  Hebrew,"  answered  the  well- 
read  man.  "He  used,  when  a  lad  loitering 
through  our  streets,  to  remind  me  of  what  Dr. 
Johnson  told  about  a  man  of  his  century;  'It 
was  said  by  himself  that  he  owed  his  nativity  to 


IN   LAUKEL   TOWN  139 

England,  !bu£  by  everybody  else,  that  he  was 
born  in  Ireland.' ' 

*  'I'd  like  to  know  how  Jim  came  to  cut  a  swath 
in  London  literary  fields — editor,  and  so  on.  I 
thought  solidity  a  necessity  over  there." 

"Oh,  Jim's  able,"  put  in  the  well-read  man. 

"Everlasting  highbrow !  Can't  you  see  a  plain 
[American's  point?  I  thought  a  man,  to  hold  a 
post  wielding  power  in  literary  matters  in  Lon- 
don, had  to  have  stability,  veracity,  moral  re- 
sponsibility, ethical  sense — what  you  call  char- 
acter. We're  more  fluid  over  here  and  slosh- 
abouts  get  more  protracted  hearing.  But  over 
there!  Jim  interpreting  this  country  to  con- 
servative Englishmen !  Geewhilikins !  "What  pre- 
tence! He  says  he  'secured  control'  of  a  paper. 
That  paper's  name  became  a  by-word,  a  synonym 
for  hatred  of  America,  No  little  ill-will  sprang 
in  England  from  its  sordid  misrepresentations 
of  our  people  and  our  institutions." 

"Oh,  yes,"  returned  the  well-read  man,  an 
austere  smile  brightening  his  face,  "but  Jim's 
a  child.  Every  Irishman  of  the  exuberant  sort 
is  a  child." 

"Treat  him  as  you  treat  a  child,  then.  Don't 
spoil  the  child  by  sparing  the  rod." 

"Unabated  Irishmen  suffer  from  lack  of  sense 
of  the  golden  mean,"  the  well-read  man  went  on. 


140  CEETAIN  WHO  DWELT 

"Many  we  get  over  here  have  been  abated  by 
various  pressures.  Jim  wasn't.  Hybris  got  hold 
of  him  early  in  life.  The  unabated  knows  no 
awe  before  the  everlasting  moralities ;  embodies 
the  old  Greek  hybris,  insolent  assumption,  law- 
less disregard  of  the  rights  of  others." 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  your  Greek, 
but  I  do  know  that  wanting  to  appear  cheek  by 
jowl  with  riches  and  rank,  chasing  after  the  ad- 
vertised, sneering  at  the  retiring,  with  anarch- 
ists an  anarchist,  with  socialists  a  socialist,  hat- 
ing order  except  to  exploit  it  for  his  own  fur- 
therance, ever  of  the  off-side ;  in  short  a  natural- 
born  incendiary,  intoxicated  with  egotism — 
that's  Jim.  With  microscope  and  scalpel  he  dis- 
sects the  by-sayings  and  by-doings  of  gifted 
people ;  then,  after  dislocating  their  speech  and 
action,  sets  himself  before  the  reader  as  the 
'smart  Alec*  of  the  occasion." 

"Portrayers  of  men  of  extraordinary  accom- 
plishments," put  in  the  well-read  man,  "seem 
sometimes  set  on  coloring  their  picture,  be  the 
cost  to  truth  what  it  may.  Airs  of  superiority 
and  patronage  their  writings  at  times  assume 
are  nauseating;  parvenu,  too." 

"Oh,  Jim's  a  whole  heap  of  a  rhetorical  pad- 
dy," burst  in  the  persistent  old  boy,  "even  if  he 
does  advertise  himself  like  the  dickens  and  do 


IN   LAUREL  TOWN  141 

other  Hebraic  stunts.  Over  in  England,  when 
he  tried  to  stand  for  Parliament,  he  must  have 
claimed  entry  to  the  try  out  on  the  ground  that 
he  was  an  Englishman ;  voted  as  an  Englishman. 
Who  knows  but  someday  he'll  declare  he  is  an 
American!  That  would  be  the  acme  of  brass! 
Well,  our  government  has  spread  wings  of  pro- 
tection over  refuse  of  Europe  and  got  kicks  in 
return  for  kindness  before  now. 

"Why,  the  other  day,  down  in  Kansas  City,  I 
heard  that  little  runt,  Sol  Einstein  who  made  his 
pile  in  wheat-deals — I  heard  little  Sol  snarl,  'I 
have  no  respect  for  your  country,  or  your  flag. 
I  didn't  want  to  come  here.'  Damn  such  a 
parasite!  Who  cares  for  his  l respect!'  Not 
our  blood  that  made  this  country  what  it  is,  and 
works  all  the  time  to  make  it  better.  These 
United  States  suit  us  real  Americans  pretty 
well,  I  notice,  in  spite  of  the  vilifications  of  all 
the  psychically-twisted  immigrants  who  seek  our 
advantages  and  repay  our  generosity  by  mud- 
slinging — Sol  Einsteins  and  Jim  Galways." 

"Oh,  what  does  it  signify  anyway!"  called 
one  of  the  company  crabbedly,  knocking  ashes 
off  his  cigar  and  cocking  his  eye  at  a  chandelier, 
"If  men  do  halloo  your  name,  and  crowd  to 
listen  to  your  speech !  What  does  it  all  amount 
to? 


142  CEBTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

"Does  it  mean  that  you  are  more  fitted  to 
teach  than  another  whom  they  don't  crowd  to, 
whom  they  don't  applaud?  No.  Many  are  the 
ill-fitted  fools  I've  seen  run  after  here  in  Kan- 
sas, just  because  the  fool  advertised  himself, 
blew  his  own  horn,  pushed  on  with  subterfuges, 
while  men  better  equipped  were  passed  by  and 
forgotten.  Of  all  this  humbug-loving  world  this 
Kansas  of  ours  is  greatest  for  chasing  after 
blatant  mouthers  and  persistent  posers ;  after  a 
hero  not  worth  a  hill  of  beans ;  some  fellow  who 
moles  along  always  intent  on  his  own  advantage, 
till  the  nothing  that  has  always  been  in  him 
finally  oozes  out. 

"But  supposing  you  have  an  idea,  and  sup- 
posing you  are  a  better  word-carpenter  than  the 
next  fellow,  more  competent  to  set  forth  our 
current  interests,  is  it  worth  the  effort?  Isn't 
it  better  to  chew  the  cud  of  contemplation  with 
one's  cows  in  cloisters  of  the  country? 

'The  Bird  of  Time  has  but  a  little  way 
To  flutter— and  the  Bird  is  on  the  Wing.' 

1 '  Nerve-ache !  You  know  how  it  pierces  your 
body;  down  your  spinal  cord  and  to  your  very 
finger-tips!  Staring,  sleepless  nights!  Anxious 
days !  And  all  for  what?  Our  Kaw  over  there 
goes  on  carrying  down  its  mud.  Waters  of  the 
Great  Salt  Lake  are  just  as  heavy  with  sodium. 


IN   LAUREL   TOWN  143 

Why  all  this  fuss  and  strutting!     Telescopes 
show  us  suns  without  end ;  and  microscopes  de- 
clare that  trees  grow  on  our  finger-nails. 
"Why  all  this  strutting,  I  say; 

The  Wine  of  Life  keeps  oozing  drop  by  drop, 
'The  Leaves  of  Life  keep  falling  one  by  one.' 

"  Better  be  like  the  robins.  No  dyspepsia  for 
them;  no  palsy;  no  heart-disease.  Life  with 
them  is  joy;  they  do  what  they  want  to  do, 
whether  in  clear  aether  above,  or  fertile  fields 
and  forests  below." 

11  Your  naming  robins,"  smilingly  broke  in  our 
naturalist,  Professor  Snow,  "brings  up  a  story 
I  know,  and  since  it  is  antidotal  to  the  philos- 
ophy of  this  pessimist  here,"  nodding  at  the  last 
speaker,  "I'll  tell  you  of  a  robin,  We're  talking 
to-night  about  Kansas  folks,  Laurel  Town  folks, 
and  if  robins  aren't  folks,  who  is  ? 

"Did  you  ever  think  what  a  democrat  the 
Robin  is?  Have  you  noticed  how  he  walks  the 
earth?  What  solidity  and  security  of  gait! 
What  serenity!  WTiat  dignity  from  sense  of 
membership  in  a  community  where  the  snob  does 
not  exist! — where  the  word  classes  is  in  minds 
and  mouths  only  of  those  so  unfortunate  as  to 
be  underbred ! — where  no  other  social  order  than 
his  own  supervenes!  Self -contentment  gives 
him  a  breast  projection  that  would  put  to  blush 


144  CEBTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

a  chesty  West  Pointer  gala-marching  down 
Fifth  Avenue. 

* '  The  Robin,  too,  has  a  big  capacity  for  tend- 
ing to  his  own  business;  seeing  it  successfully 
through,  and  not  minding  other  people's.  He 
grubs  his  living  from  Mother  Earth.  To  be  a 
good  provider  and  look  well  after  the  ways  of 
his  household,  he  is  up  and  off  early  in  the  morn- 
ing. In  this  he  is  a  true  son  of  American  soil, 
a  thorough  democrat. 

"When  twilight  settles  over  the  land  you  see 
him  still  hustling,  for,  after  the  habit  of  Ameri- 
cans, he  likes  a  sustaining  supper.  His  children 
grow  like  Kansas  weeds,  and  his  wife  is  as  com- 
petent a  mother  and  house-wife  as  her  husband 
in  his  providing. 

"As  for  his  voice — a  whole  folk-song  lies  in 
his  warble.  If  you  think  I'm  overestimating 
call  to  mind  how,  in  early  springtime,  your  spirit 
rises  when  his  first  note  starts  upon  your  ear; 
how  your  heart  lightens  when  his  melody  waves 
along  a  May  air  laden  with  the  scent  of  apple- 
blossoms.  Not  only  is  it  as  if  you  heard  songs 
your  mother  sang  as  you  lay  in  your  cradle ;  its 
echoes  seem  to  trail  further  back  and  rouse  sub- 
conscious, race  memories. 

"Then  Robins  have  another  American  charac- 
teristic. Last  spring,  over  by  Green  Hall,  I  saw 


IN   LAUREL  TOWN  145 

a  lusty  member  of  the  tribe  walking  sedately  on 
the  grass.  Suddenly  eagerness  struck  him.  His 
eye  fastened  on  a  bit  of  tissue  paper  about  four 
by  six  inches.  He  ran  to  it,  picked  it  in  his 
beak,  and  rose  to  the  overhanging  tree. 

'  *  Toward  the  end  of  the  long  pliant  bough  on 
which  he  lighted  was  a  small  crotch,  and  in  it 
he  began  packing  the  tissue.  Gentle  winds  blew 
against  him,  and  he  had  worked  but  a  couple  of 
minutes  when  a  whirl  of  air  caught  the  paper 
and  bore  it  away. 

"Only  for  a  second,  however.  Down  he 
darted,  and,  about  ten  feet  below  his  building 
site,  caught  the  floating  piece,  took  it  back,  and 
again  began  packing  in  his  foundation. 

"Not  long  and  another  gust  caught  the  sheet, 
that  part  he  could  not  grasp  formed  a  sail  for  the 
wind  to  seize,  and  a  second  time  bore  it  still 
farther  before  he  nipped  it  in  his  bill.  Again  he 
rose  to  the  crotch  and  began  hammering  it  down. 

"A  third  time  the  wind  played  thief.  A  fourth 
— the  bird  trying  to  pack  the  paper,  some  mis- 
chievous harpy  snatching  it  from  under  his  beak 
and  bearing  it  off. 

"Class-time  neared,  and  I  had  to  go.  I 
thought  of  Robert  Bruce  and  his  spider.  With 
draughty  winds  I  feared  for  Mr.  Robin's  house- 
raising. 


146  CEBTAm  WHO  DWELT 

"A  few  days  after  I  went  round  to  see  what 
headway  so  good  an  American  had  made,  and  if 
by  chance  Mrs.  Eobin  had  had  her  inf  are. 

"In  a  notch  of  the  limb  lay  a  nest;  and  from 
one  side  gleamed  smutty  tissue-paper.  Mrs. 
Robin's  cap  glanced  in  the  sunlight;  and  the 
dame  herself  seemed  brooding  and  drowsing  in 
peace. 

'"Just  start  in  to  sing  as  you  tackle  the  thing 
That  can  not  be  done,  and  you'll  do  it,' 

I  said  to  myself.   Do  as  Mr.  Eobin  did. 

"We  talk  about  an  emblem  of  our  country — 
and  the  Kobin  at  our  door!  A  thrush  migrant; 
as  our  people  are.  Yet  of  supremely  social  in- 
stinct— like  our  people.  Loving  his  own  peculiar, 
self -built  home — as  our  people  do ;  but  wanting 
that  home  by  the  abode  and  groupings  of  men." 

"I  know  a  story  of  another  bird  of  supremely 
social  instinct,"  called  another  of  the  company, 
"It  concerns  some  of  our  town-folks,  too." 

"Tell  it,"  invited  the  assembly. 

"My  story  is  about  the  little  stone  house  be- 
low the  university.  Nowadays  winds  blow 
through  that  house's  shattered  windows.  Yet 
there  a  lady  once  met  a  bird — a  big,  brilliant- 
plumed,  gawky,  Shanghai  rooster;  eager,  im- 
pudent, earth-scratching,  always  searching 


IN   LAUEEL  TOWN  147 

something  to  put  in  his  maw,  and  totally  devoid 
of  reverence  for  people  of  distinction. 

"The  lady,  a  dignified  spinster,  almost  if  not 
quite  six  feet  in  height,  broad-shouldered,  doing 
all  she  did  in  what  Miss  Oliver  has  described  as 
'the  grand  manner* — a  lady  the  very  epitome 
of  mid- Victorian  propriety  and  formalism.  In 
after  times  she  held  the  chair  of  French  in  the 
university,  an  institution  not  founded  on  the  day 
of  her  encounter  with  the  Shanghai 

"Fifty  years  or  so  ago  Dr.  Charles  Robinson 
lived  in  the  little  stone  house.  Perhaps  he  built 
it.  Who  knows! 

"Anyhow,  at  that  time,  and,  as  you  may  easily 
discover,  summer-time,  the  formal,  mid- Victo- 
rian spinster,  doing  everything  in  her  matchless 
way,  this  lady  was  the  guest  of  her  friend,  Mrs. 
Robinson. 

' '  The  two  dames  lived  each  day  under  some- 
what pioneering  conditions — as  who  did  not  in 
Kansas  in  the  eighteen  fifties!  Such  a  little 
stone  house  was  a  cramped  affair  to  those  used 
to  the  acreage  and  sweep  of  a  New  England 
dwelling.  But  there  was  all-out-doors — and  who 
can  deny  the  breadth  of  out-of-doors  in  Kansas  ! 
So  the  two  New  England  ladies  thought  of  out- 
of-doors  when  within-doors  seemed  a  trifle 
narrow. 


148  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

"To  these  two  intimates,  and  the  little  stone 
house,  Dr.  Robinson  brought  home,  one  day  for 
mid-day  dinner,  a  friend  passing  through  town. 
And  quite  f orehandedly  he  brought  a  beefsteak. 
Those  days  distances  to  butchers  were  long,  and 
meat  not  easy  to  come  by.  Then,  why  shouldn't 
the  mayor  of  Laurel  Town  and  coming  gover- 
nor of  the  democratic  state  of  Kansas  bring 
home  his  own  steak,  in  his  own  right  hand,  if  he 
wanted  to? 

"According  to  plan  and  division  of  household 
duties  the  two  ladies  had  hit  upon,  dinner-get- 
ting that  day  was  to  fall  to  the  tall,  mid- Victo- 
rian dame.  Then,  of  course,  the  cooking  of  the 
steak  would  be  hers  also. 

"Now  right  here  you  get  at  the  reason  why  I 
said  I  could  tell  a  tale  about  a  bird. 

"The  lady,  beginning  her  task,  laid  the  steak 
on  the  table  by  the  open  window ;  near  the  win- 
dow-sill that  comes  almost  on  a  level  with  the 
slooping  ground,  as  you  may  easily  see  the  next 
time  you  go  by  and  peer  into  the  dilapidated 
little  stone  house. 

"Next  the  lady  turned  to  get  coals  ready  for 
the  broiling.  For  a  time  she  gave  all  her  atten- 
tion to  the  fire.  Then,  when  she  had  it  nicely 
coaled,  she  reached  for  the  steak — just  in  time  to 
see  Mr.  Shanghai  on  a  dead  run  up  the  hill,  hold- 


IN   LAUREL  TOWN  149 

ing  his  head  far  above  its  usual  height  in  order 
to  save  himself  from  turning  heels  over  head  in 
making  off  with  the  meat. 

1  'Parbleu !  What  would  a  lady,  dignified,  some- 
what slow  in  movement,  but  blessed  with  the 
New  England  conscience — what  would  such  a 
lady,  in  such  an  extremity,  do?  Dinner  would 
be  lost  without  the  steak.  Those  were  hungry 
men. 

' '  The  lady  would  give  chase.  Being  from  New 
England  she  would  not  call  for  help.  She  would 
rely  on  her  own  breathing  and  running  ability. 
Precisely  this  Miss  Elizabeth  Leonard  did. 

"The  fowl  went  up  the  hill.  The  lady  after 
him.  Then  a  vacillating  mind  led  him  down  the 
hill.  The  lady  followed.  But  before  he  had  ar- 
rived quite  at  the  bottom,  he  thought  he  would 
again  ascend.  The  lady  pursued  his  divagations. 

"Till,  finally,  after  a  few  more  of  the  ups  and 
downs  of  life,  possibly  feeling  in  his  moral 
make-up  that  he  was  really  the  one  at  fault,  Mr. 
Shanghai  seemingly  became  discouraged.  At 
any  rate  lie  dropped  the  steak, 

"When  the  lady  got  back  to  the  table,  the  win- 
dow and  the  fire,  there  was  still  a  bed  of  blazing 
coals,  and,  after  sousing  the  meat  in  water,  she 
spread  it  on  a  gridiron,  and  at  last  set  it  hot, 
juicy  and  redolent,  before  the  hungry;  flanking 


150  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

it  with  ivory  cobs  obtruding  milky  kernels,  pota- 
toes taken  that  morning  from  between  grey 
blankets  of  earth,  and  other  goodies  such  as 
women  in  Kansas  do  set  forth. 

"  'And  they  did  eat  their  meat,  just  as  in 
older  times  when  Luke,  workfellow  and  physi- 
cian of  Paul,  told  of  others  leading  a  simple  life, 
yet  a  life  carrying  a  message  to  the  world — they 
'did  eat  their  meat  with  gladness  and  single- 
ness of  heart/ 

"But  the  story  of  her  encounter  with  the 
rooster  the  lady  did  not  relate  till  the  dinner  was 
over." 

"While  Professor  Snow  was  talking  of  his 
Simon-pure  American,"  broke  in  the  smiling- 
f aced  insurance-man, ' '  and  our  old  Tory  Squire 
here,"  laying  his  hand  on  the  arm  of  the  pessi- 
mist, "telling  of  his  clear  aether,  I  could  not  help 
thinking  of  how  I  met  Bud  Hightower.  But  Bud 
didn't  live  in  Laurel  Town,  and  so  he's  prob- 
ably taboo  here  to-night.  Mighty  little  of  Kan- 
sas in  Bud.  He  lived  just  across  the  line  in 
Missouri." 

"Before  you  strike  in  on  Missouri/'  faltered 
one  of  the  elder  of  the  guard,  "let's  have  a  real 
Kansas  song.  Let's  have  the  'Corn  Song;'  a 
good  old  sing  for  all  corn-raising  folks." 

"Say,"  chortled  the  well-read  man,  his  native 


IN   LAUREL  TOWN  151 

austerity  melting  into  a  laughing  eye,  "you  re- 
mind me  of  a  little  story  about  Napoleon.  *  They 
don't  speak  well  of  my  Arc  de  Triomphe,'  he 
complained  one  day.  'There  are  two  persons  I 
have  heard  praise  it,'  answered  Antoine  Daru, 
'your  majesty  and  its  architect/ r 

"Well,  now,  old  top,  busy  as  a  bee  and  about 
as  touchy!  "You  can  n't  say  the  'Corn  Song' 
hasn't  Kansas  color.  You  can  n't  say  it  doesn't 
bring  a  Kansas  cornfield  of  a  dewy  June  morn- 
ing before  your  eyes.  To  your  ears,  too,  the 
click  of  a  young  darkey's  hoe  as  he  sings  among 
the  whispering  blades. 

"You  can  n't  say  'Corn  'Song*  would  n't 
sound  good  after  those  war  songs  we've  been 
singing,  heartening  as  their  memories  are.  I'm 
not  a  doddering  old  fussbudget,  and  don't  you 
forget  it. 

"Start  IHe  'Corn  Song/  James  Horton; 
wont  you  ?  You're  leader  of  this  glee  club.  iAnd 
you  basses  come  on." 


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154 


IN   LAUREL   TOWN  155 

"Now  for  Bud  Hightower,"  chorused  the  com- 
pany sinking  back  in  relaxation  after  their  sing- 
ing, "We  want  Bud  Hightower.  Fetching 
name  I" 

"I've  seen  Missourians  who  shut  car-windows 
when  the  train  neared  Kansas,"  quavered  one  of 
the  cronies.  "They  said  they  'didn't  want  any 
air  from  the  damned  Yankees  to  get  in.'  Was 
Bud  that  sort?" 

The  insurance-man  smiled  the  query  to  si- 
lence, and  began: — 

"I  met  him  on  the  road,  in  a  park  nature 
made  and  civilization  had  not  yet  reduced  to 
utility  and  corn.  Eye-measuring  room  for  me 
to  pass,  and  slowing  his  team,  he  called 
'Howdy!' 

"I  had  just  pedaled  up  a  hill  and  was  not 
averse  to  stopping. 

"  'Ain't  you  that  there  inshoorance-man  what 
was  down  to  Burning  Bush  t'morrer  a  week?' 

"He  sat  on  a  board  laid  across  his  wagon- 
box.  An  old,  white  sombrero,  turned  up  in  front 
and  sagging  behind,  formed  a  nimbus  about  his 
head.  Blue  hickory  shirt  and  butternut- jean 
trousers  covered  his  raw-boned  body. 

"Six  days  before  I  was  in  Burning  Bush,  I 
answered ;  I  didn't  know  whether  I  was  the  in- 
surance-man he  meant. 


156  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

"  'Wall,  ain't  you  ther  feller  what  writ  some 
life  inshoorance  fur  Tom  Linn  thar  at  the 
bank?' 

"Yes. 

"  'Wall,  stranger/  he  continued,  putting  his 
worn  plough  shoes  on  the  upright  board,  lean- 
ing towards  them  and  shutting  his  body  like  a 
jackknife,  'I've  bin  er  wanting  ter  see  you-all 
ever  sence  that  day.  Ther  fact  is  I  was  settin 
on  er  box,  er  whittlin  and  er  dreamin  just  out- 
side ther  window  from  Tom's  desk,  when  you 
wuz  er  preachin  ter  him — an  I  want  to  say  right 
hyer  that  yer  done  it  powerful  strong,  too;  an 
what  you-all  wuz  er  sayin  hez  set  me  ter  think- 
in  right  smart?' 

"  'Now  I  live  down  hyer  in  Buck  Crick  er- 
bout  four  mile,  an  it's  this  erway.  We-uns  has 
got  er  forty  acre  patch  that  ain't  so  powerful 
bad,  ceptin  one  corner  what's  a  bit  rocky.  Er 
piecin  uv  it  out  with  twenty  what  we  rent  from 
Squire  Haldeman,  me  and  Sabiny  manages  ter 
git  ernough  corn  bread  and  long  sweetnin  fer 
ther  young  ones. 

"  'How  many?  yer  say — 

"  'Wall/  in  lower  voice,  'ther  ain't  but  two 
now.  Ther  dipthery  took  ther  twin  babies  last 
winter's  a  year  ago,  and  ther  oldest  boy  he  got 
drowned  in  ther  crick  last  summer' — and  then 


IN   LAUBEL  TOWN  157 

the  blue  faded  out  of  the  goodman's  eyes  and  a 
misty  whiteness  overspread  them. 

"  'Yes,  stranger,  it  were  tolable  hard  on  ther 
woman  but  I  reckon  ther  Lord  knows  best ;  least- 
wise that's  what  ther  preacher  wuz  er  tellin  us. 

"  'Yes,  we've  got  er  boy  and  gal  left,  and 
they're  powerful  good  children,  too.  I'm  pretty 
peart  myself;  but  mam,  she's  been  ailin  and  er 
punyin  considerable,  and  it's  been  er  worryin  uv 
me  heaps.  Sence  ther  children  were  took  she 
don't  seem  ter  have  no  ambition,  not  anything 
that  erway.  She  ain't  complainin  none;  ain't 
doctorin  none;  jest  kind  er  pinin.  I  lowed  I'd 
send  her  back  ter  her  mother's  in  Callaway 
soon's  corn's  laid  by,  ter  see  ef  'twont  help  her 
out. 

"  'But  that  ain't  altogether  what's  er  worryin 
uv  me.  It's  this : — With  me  er  workin  ther  place, 
and  what  I  kin  tend  besides,  and  er  doin  odd 
jobs  when  I  kin  git  em,  we  ain't  layin  by  much. 
An  that  ther  boy  uv  ours  is  goin  to  be  growed  up 
soon,  if  we  raise  him,  an  I've  lowed  as  how  he'll 
have  ter  go  ter  school  right  smart,  fur  he's  er 
goin  ter  have  an  edication,  even  ef  his  dad  ain't 
got  none. 

"  'Now,  stranger,  suppose  I  should  be  tuk  off! 
Why,  after  I  heerd  you-all  er  talkin  ter  Tom 
t'other  day,  I  went  to  bed  that  night  and  got  ter 


158  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

think  erabout  this  hyer  dyin,  and  I  couldn't  sleep 
no  more'n  a  rabbit.  An  ever  sence  it's  been  er 
worryin  uv  me,  an  I  jest  made  up  my  mind  I'd 
hunt  you-uns  up  and  see  what  you  could  do 
fer  me. 

"  'We're  middlin  poor,  an  I  don't  know  ef  we 
can  pay  out  all  ther  money  it'll  take,  but  I  jest 
'lowed  what  er  rich  man  needs  bad,  er  poor  man 
needs  a  powerful  sight  worse.  When  craps  is 
good,  and  cattle  and  hogs  is  high,  we  do  tolable 
well,  specially  when  mam  has  luck  with  the  but- 
ter and  aigs  and  turkeys. 

' '  'What  might  be  yer  charges  fur  er  thousand 
dollars  inshoorance? 

"  'Wall,  I  were  thirty-nine  month  before 
last. 

"  'Most  forty  dollars  er  year!  That's  a  heap 
uv  money.  Why,  ef  I  should  take  that  much  er 
year  and  buy  calves,  I'd  soon  have  er  thousand 
dollars — 

"Ef  I  didn't  die,  and  fhe  calves  didn't  die,  and 
ef  I  kep  er  doin  uv  it,  yer  say.  Wall,  yes,  ther 
air  chances,  I  reckon. 

"  'What's  that?  Ef  I  live  twenty  years  I'll 
git  my  money  back  anyhow,  or  won't  have  more 
to  pay? 

"  'Stranger,  I'll  tell  yer  what  I  want  ter  do. 
I  want  ter  talk  this  hyer  over  with  Sabiny  and 


IN    LAUREL  TOWN  159 

see  what  she  says.  And  I'd  like  ter  know  whar 
I  kin  find  yer  ter-morrer.' 

"I  told  him  he'd  better  close  the  deal  then  and 
there. 

"  'No,  stranger,'  he  said,  'I  wont  do  er  thing 
till  I  see  mam.  It  wouldn't  be  right.  She 
wouldn't  spend  all  that  money  without  askin  uv 
me,  and  tain't  right  fur  me  ter  do  it  unbeknownst 
ter  her.  She  helps  ter  earn  this  hyer  money,  an 
I'll  have  to  see  her.' 

"I  answered  I  should  be  in  Burning  Bush  to- 
morrow, and  on  my  way  back  would  stop  at  his 
house  to  learn  their  decision. 

"As  I  rode  away  I  could  not  help  wondering 
why  the  Lord  had  seemingly  put  so  many  hearts 
in  the  wrong  place.  Here  was  one  that  should 
have  worn  ermine,  and  over  it  was  nothing  but  a 
Missouri  cotton  shirt. 

"Next  day,  with  the  sun  still  three  hours  high, 
I  rounded  the  divide  that  looked  into  Sabiny's 
vale.  Century-old  oaks  capped  the  hills  and 
stood  down  to  fields  green  with  corn  and  yellow 
with  ripening  wheat.  To  the  right,  through  the 
wood-pasture,  nestled  the  couple's  domicile.  I 
got  off  my  wheel  and  walked. 

"But  no  sooner  had  I  turned  the  corner  of 
the  hog-lot  than  out  rushed  a  pack  of  hounds  and 
coon  dogs,  reinforced  by  the  two  canines  that  had 


160  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

flopped  under  Bud's  wagon  when  it  came  to  a 
standstill  the  day  before. 

"Eyes  gleamed,  and  hair  turned  the  wrong 
way,  and  it  looked  as  if  the  brutes  were  to  have 
a  lunch  at  their  own  counter — when  the  door 
flew  open  and  out  came  Madam,  humble  in  her 
shame  that  a  stranger  should  receive  such  a 
welcome  at  the  house  of  a  born  Missourian. 

"She  wielded  her  broom  vigorously,  and 
talked  as  emphatically  as  she  struck  out.  The 
curs  smothered  their  growls  and  fled  for  refuge, 
one  under  an  ash-barrel,  another  round  the 
corner  of  the  meat-house,  a  third  peered  over 
chicken-coops  and  others  from  behind  the  cur- 
rant bushes. 

"I  was  saved.  To  confront  Sabiny!  'Holy 
smoke/  I  thought,  'is  this  the  she  those  honest 
eyes  look  upon  with  such  affection!'  Hair  thin 
and  lustreless,  black  and  nervous  beads  of  eyes, 
complection  in  hue  like  a  pumpkin,  topping  a 
lank,  stoop-shouldered  figure  close  to  six  feet 
in  height.  You  would  not  call  Sabina  beautiful. 

"I  thanked  the  lady  for  her  defense,  adding 
that  dogs  seldom  attacked  me  and  I  wondered 
why  theirs  did. 

"  'It's  jest  Bud's  way  o  keepin  them  hounds,' 
she  answered.  'He  will  hunt  coons  and  foxes, 
and  them  hounds  has  to  be  kep  up  till  they  git 


IN   LAUBEL   TOWN  161 

so  oncivilized  they  purty  nigh  worries  the  life 
out  uv  me/ 

"I  enquired  for  the  goodman. 

"  'I  reckon  you'll  find  him  down  to  the  branch 
fixin  o  the  water  gap,*  she  answered,  and  asked 
as  I  walked  away,  'Air  you  that  inshoorance-man 
what  Bud  were  a-tellin  about  V 

"  'Yes,'  I  said  and  braced  myself  for  an  on- 
slaught. 

"  'For  goodness'  sake!  Now,  why  didn't  you 
tell  me?  Wait  till  I  git  a  cheer,  and  you  set 
down  here  in  the  gallery  while  I  call  Bud.' 

"In  the  yard  stood  a  tall  pole,  topped  by  a 
bell  swinging  in  an  iron  frame.  From  the  lever 
arm  of  the  frame  hung  a  rope  which  she  grasped 
and  pulled  till  the  bell  rang. 

"The  log-house  was  typical — two  separate 
rooms  about  ten  feet  apart  set  in  a  grove  of 
honey-locusts.  One  roof  covered  both  rooms 
and  the  passage  between  them ;  then,  without 
change  of  pitch,  reaching  down  to  a  row  of  posts, 
sheltered  a  porch  or  gallery.  The  shingles  had 
been  hand-riven  and  shaven,  logs  and  posts  of 
the  house  squared  by  a  broad  axe,  and  floors  of 
rooms  and  gallery  made  of  oak  puncheons. 

"A  great  iron  kettle  in  which  Sabina  tried  out 
lard  at  hog-killing  time  lay  bottom-side  up 
against  the  house-logs,  in  one  corner  of  the 


162  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

gallery.  Not  far  off,  on  a  peg,  hung  her  side- 
saddle and  riding  skirt.  Spinning-wheel  and 
sewing-machine  stood  inside  near  a  window. 

"And  everywhere  pecked  chickens,  old 
chickens,  young  chickens  of  all  degrees  of  famil- 
iarity. Sabiny  with  a  swish  of  her  broom  drove 
the  intruders  away.  Then  bringing  another 
chair  she  sat  down  beside  me. 

"  'Bud  was  a-tellin  about  that  inshoorance  of 
yours,'  she  began,  'but  we  ain't  come  to  no  con- 
clusions about  it.  You  see,  if  Bud  should  die, 
and  you-all  should  come  yere  and  bring  that 
money,  I'd  sort  o  feel  as  if  I  were  takin  it  for 
Bud — as  is  I  were  a  sellin  him,  in  fact  kind  o  like 
it  WTIZ  blood-money.' 

"  'I've  bin  tryin  to  think  it's  right,'  she  con- 
tinued, 'but  I  declare  to  goodness  it's  powerful 
hard  to  get  it  straight  in  my  mind.  I  reckon  as 
how  the  fault's  mine,  though,  for  some  of  our 
best  preachers  of  the  Word  are  insurin,  and  I 
allow  they've  done  got  at  the  right  of  it.' 

"We  sat  facing  the  west.  A  bunch  of  glossy 
green  water-oaks  cut  off  the  sun's  rays.  As 
Sabina  spoke  a  catbird  flew  into  the  nearest  tree 
and  stood  in  questioning  mien,  cocking  at  us  first 
one  eye  and  then  the  other.  In  his  bill  he  was 
carrying  a  wriggling  fishwonn  for  his  offspring. 
I  spoke  of  the  bird  to  Sabina. 


IN   LA.UBEL   TOWN  163 

"  'Yes,/  she  answered,  'Bud  sets  a  heap  o 
store  by  them  thrushes.  Nestin  with  us  five 
years  now,  seems  like  they  wuz  part  o  the 
family.' 

' '  Here  was  my  text.  '  Mrs.  Hightower/ 1  said, 
'  that  poor  bird  is  doing  all  it  can,  is  exercising 
all  the  intelligence  its  Creator  gave  it,  when  it 
feeds  and  guards  its  little  ones  till  they  can  use 
their  wings.  If  it  dies,  and  its  nestlings  come 
to  want,  still  it  has  done  well  because  the  Lord 
granted  it  no  ability  to  extend  protection  longer 
than  its  life. 

"  'But  suppose  this  father-bird  were  endowed, 
together  with  all  the  rest  of  his  kind,  with  in- 
telligence enough  to  band  with  other  father-cat- 
birds and  agree  that  if  death  befell  him,  the 
others  would  help  care  for  his  little  ones  till 
they  could  care  for  themselves.  Then,  if  he  per- 
sisted in  exposing  his  young  ones  to  cold,  hunger 
and  death,  when  he  could  help  them  merely  by 
helping  save  others  when  occasion  required,  he 
would  seem  a  neglectful,  mean  catbird,  wouldn't 
her 

"I  went  on.  Sabina's  eyes  looked  further  and 
further  beyond  the  water-oaks,  grew  bigger  and 
bigger,  more  and  more  moist,  until  tears 
gathered  and  slowly  worked  down  her  sun- 
browned  cheeks. 


164  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

"Just  at  that  moment  Bud  called  out 
1  Howdy!' 

"  'Wall,  Mr.  Inshoorance  Man,'  he  continued, 
' I  jest  'lowed  as  how  yer  couldn't  git  time  ter 
light  hyer  ter  see  us  poor  folks.  But  I'm  glad 
yer  come  and  hope  yer's  got  Sabiny  ter  listen  ter 
reason ;  f er  she  says  she  don't  want  no  inshoor- 
ance  on  me/ 

"  'May  be  I  were  wrong,'  answered  his  wife 
slowly, '  and  if  Bud  kin  keep  up  the  payments,  it 
might  be  a  good  thing  for  the  children/ 

"This  led  to  description  of  policies,  in  which 
Sabina  evinced  brisk  interest. 

"Hardly  was  I  done  when  she  asked,  'Why 
don't  you-all  write  inshoorance  for  women-folks, 
too?' 

"We  do  in  favor  of  their  children. 

"  'Then  I  reckon  we  can  settle  this  yere  ques- 
tion mighty  easy.  Bud  kin  take  out  a  policy,  if 
I  kin  have  one.  For  he  shaint  do  more  for  the 
children  than  I  do ;  and  I  kin  pay  for  mine  out 
o  the  chicken  and  aig  money.' 

"From  some  hiding-place  between  the  logs 
Sabina  produced  coin  for  the  premiums,  and  we 
closed  the  business  at  once. 

"Only  after  I  had  partaken  of  her  supper  of 
'smothered  chicken/  had  met  the  two  children 
and  promised  to  join  Bud  in  a  fox  or  coon  hunt 


IN   LAUEEL  TOWN  165 

when  frosts  next  came,  was  I  able  to  get  away 
to  Kansas  City."* 

The  insurance-man  ended  his  story. 

Robert  Sorrow's  birthday  party  was  drawing 
to  its  close.  Still,  each  of  the  company  must 
drink  a  couple  of  glasses  of  fruity  punch,  and  all 
must  join  in  singing  "Auld  Lang  Syne"  before 
they  made  final  wishes  of  health  and  added 
years  to  their  host. 

At  last,  after  putting  on  top-coats  in  the  hall, 
and  lighting  fresh  "  face-warmers,"  the  guests 
set  forth,  still  rallying  one  another. 

Yet  do  not  suppose  they  went  in  the  limping 
gait  commonly  attributed  to  oldsters.  Rather 
each  one  might  have  vied  with  Mr.  A.  P.  Clark, 
who  ran  down  the  steps,  and  on  the  walk  in  front 
of  the  house — out  in  the  full  moonlight  where 
everybody,  could  see — cut  a  pigeon-wing  merely 
to  prove  that,  although  eighty-four,  he  was  the 
youngest  of  the  party. 

In  such  wise  the  Honorable  Robert  Borrow 
celebrated  his  four-score  birthday.  And  if  this 
slight  record  bears  no  conviction  that  the  occa- 
sion was  beautiful  and  human,  it  is  because,  after 
all,  the  story  we  love  is  vain  and  inadequate 

*Not  in  "the  ordinary  'Pike  County*  dialect"  to  which 
Mark  Twain  bears  witness  in  "Huckleberry  Finn,"  but  in 
one  of  its  Missouri  varieties  this  story  has  been  written 
and  spelled,  as  Bud  and  Sabiny  spoke,  by  N.  J.  8. 


166  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

when  compared  to  life  itself — because,  if  one 
may  reach  so  high,  it  is  better  to  be  Achilles,  or 
high-helmeted  Hector,  than  a  commemorator, 
even  such  as  Father  Homer. 


VII 

As  years  went  on  Laurel  Town  was  drifting 
into  the  moorings  of  an  academic,  residence- 
town,  where  the  old,  democratic  estimate  of  the 
person  maintains  itself  and  yet  standards  of 
good  breeding  prevail;  where  an  easy  humor 
thrives ;  where  houses  have  an  air  of  retirement, 
leisure,  and  women  exchange  cooking  receipts 
and  embroidery  patterns,  and  the  home  life  of 
the  men  is  comfortable  and  constant,  proving 
the  law  John  Stuart  Mill  stated,  "Whoever  has 
a  wife  and  children  has  given  hostages  to  Mrs. 
Grundy." 

In  all  this  maturing  clubs  figured;  for  in- 
stances, the  men's  "Old  and  New."  Meeting 
every  fortnight  for  logomachy,  its  host  of  the 
evening  chose  a  subject  on  which  his  thoughts 
and  studies  had  turned,  and  presented  his  views ; 
continuing  lighter  arguments  upon  his  guests 
going  in  to  his  table  for  oysters.  Before  the 
end  of  the  discussion  each  man  commonly  ac- 


IN   LAUBBL  TOWN  167 

cepted  the  ground  posited  or  gave  reasons  for 
dissent. 

Tuesday  afternoons,  too,  their  alert  minds 
bent  on  invigoration,  women  gathered  under 
variously  named  unions — the  first  about  fifty 
years  ago  as  "  Friends  in  Council,"  a  title  bor- 
rowed from  an  English  book.  Decorous  and  as 
radical  and  vigorous  as  that  time's  estimate* 
permitted  "ladies"  to  be,  the  club,  one  year  for 
example,  studied  the  history  of  painting  in 
Europe. 

A  whetter  of  interest  to  house-circumscribed 
women !  A  sweetener  and  expander  of  the  mind ! 

In  their  founder  the  "Friends"  honored  a 
spinster  of  best  American  traditions;  and  tall, 
high-shouldered,  of  dark  hair,  Juno  brow  and 
eyes,  and  a  mouth  filled  with  burnished  teeth; 
a  lady  carefully  habited  also  in  prevailing 
fashions.f 

•Terribly  unconventional  it  was  for  a  woman  to  be  vigor- 
ous in  those  days,  when  "The  Little  Health  of  Ladies" 
excited  public  discussion;  and  ridicule  of  strength  and 
independence  in  women,  such  gibes  as  you  find  in  pages  of 
Thackeray  and  Tennyson  and  countless  other  writers,  still 
bore  their  sting. 

tHer  broaches,  "lady-trifles  .   .    . 

Immoment  toys,  things  of  such  dignity 
As  we  greet  modern  friends  withal," 

ranged  from  carved  gold  to  Florentine  mosaic  and  Neapolitan 
coral.  Sitting  before  her  every  morning,  I  counted  a  new 
one  twenty-eight  days,  and  then  gave  up  numbering  for 
fear  I  should  repeat  and  so  exaggerate. 


168  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

Along  with  this  massive  physical  impressive- 
ness,  a  native  intelligence  increased  through 
study  of  various  tongues  of  Europe,  and  a  quiet, 
decisive,  formal,  nay,  icily  conventional  man- 
ner, which,  like  her  figure,  always  seemed  well- 
corseted. 

One  March  day  this  ceremonious  dame  issued 
from  Fraser  Hall  at  the  moment  with  myself,  a 
slender  student.  During  the  morning  she  had 
been  speaking  French  with  classes  reading  Mo- 
liere,  or  Racine.  I  had  listened  to  stories  by  our 
Latin-tongued  professor  and  Englished  Tully. 

A  March  day,  we  say,  and  in  Kansas.  Spank- 
ing gales  enlivened  the  noon  hour,  and  I  ac- 
cepted her  invitation  to  join  the  lady.  It  was 
a  professor's  invitation;  one,  like  royalty's, 
you  can  not  easily  refuse.  Then,  too,  her  talk 
was  delightful;  and  at  this  juncture  walking 
surer-footed  in  her  lee. 

As  we  went  on  our  chat  somehow,  perhaps 
because  of  her  founder's  interest,  fell  about  the 
"Friends  in  Council,"  that  year  studying  the 
history  of  the  French  people.  Next  week,  she 
said,  they  would  be  reading  and  talking  about 
the  war  in  La  Vendee. 

"You  will  probably  read  Swinburne's  "Les 
Noyades,"  I  ventured,  the  mention  of  Vendee 
bring  Carrier  to  my  mind. 


rsr  LAUREL  TOWN  169 

"Don't  know  it,"  answered  the  lady.  "What 
is  it?" 

"Oh,  I  mean  the  poem  turning  on  an  event 
when  Carrier  was  torturing  in  Nantes." 

"I  never  heard  of  it,"  returned  the  lady.  "Is 
it  long?  If  it  isn't,  won't  you  read  it  to  us?" 

So  it  came  that  next  Tuesday  afternoon  I  met 
with  the  wives  and  mothers.  They  received  me 
with  the  measured,  Anglo-American  good-breed- 
ing of  that  time,  and  when  they  were  done  with 
their  tasks  the  founder-president  smiling  toward 
me  explained  why  a  student  was  with  them — 
because  of  a  beautiful  poem  with  which  she 
would  supplement  their  day's  programme. 

At  once  I  began : 

"In  the  wild  fifth  year  of  the  change  of  things, 
When  France  was  glorious  and  blood-red,  fair 

With  the  dust  of  battle  and  death  of  kings, 
A  queen  among  men,  with  helmeted  hair. 

Carrier  came  down  to  the  Loire  and  slew, 

Till  all  the  ways  and  the  waves  waxed  red ; 

Bound  and  drowned,  slaying  two  by  two, 
Maidens  and  young  men,  naked  and  wed." 

The  poem  held  me.  I  did  not  think  of  auditors 
till  I  came  to  its  end.  Saturated  with  its  beauty, 
I  looked  up. 

Did  I  see  aright? — dismay,  perhaps,  on 
nearly  every  face ! 


170  CERTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

Had  I  not  read  the  poem  well  ?  I  thought  shiv- 
ering. Had  I  wronged  the  work?  an  unusual 
subject  treated  with  the  adroitness  of  genius. 
Possibility  of  negation,  that  others  would  not 
enjoy  it,  had  not  crossed  my  mind. 

An  awful  pause.  Then  one  lady,  who  seemed 
to  me  more  prunes-and-prisms  than  any  I  knew, 
remarked  that  it  was  an  undesirable  subject  for 
a  young  lady  to  deal  with — in  fact,  (this  with  a 
compression  of  lips  and  a  side-glance)  the  poem 
was  not  decent. 

Oh,  what  a  sudden,  striking  humiliation!  It 
was  personal,  then!  The  trouble  was  not  with 
Swinburne's  poem,  but  with  me !  These  women 
evidently  united  in  their  estimate.  No  voice 
spoke  for  the  poem ;  or  for  the  reader  of  it. 

Why  had  I  merited  such  a  rebuff?  I  ques- 
tioned the  blue-bound  "Laus  Veneris"  in  my 
hand.  The  poet  believed  in  the  poem;  else  he 
would  not  have  published  it.  Swinburne  would 
defend  me ;  he  knew  why  I  had  read  his  verses. 

Pulling  on  of  wraps,  and  getting  together 
books  and  papers,  sounded  a  relief.  Then 
echoing  good-byes.  I  went  forth  in  a  cold  per- 
spiration, marvelling  at  the  mysterious  deeds  of 
Friends  when  in  Council — and  yet,  after  re- 
acting from  the  shock  of  their  condemnation, 
with  an  underlying  feeling  of  triumph  that  I  had 


IN   LAUREL  TOWN  171 

somewhat  those  dames  did  not,  perhaps  some 
power  of  contemplation  and  enjoyment  of  the 
art  of  letters. 

Years  after,  only,  did  a  glimmer  come  to  me 
of  what  the  mature  women  of  that  afternoon  may 
have  thought,  and  mentally  endued  me  with 
thinking.  Long  after,  only,  did  I  see  what  pos- 
sibly their  horizon  had  not  ascribed  to  me — that 
solely  because  of  innocence  of  the  world  could  I, 
elated  with  its  music  and  historic  picture,  un- 
conscious of  its  fleshliness,  read  the  poem  to 
their  audience. 

Nor  did  matters  end  there.  They  had  illu- 
minating corollaries.  Later  when  I  told  this 
"Les  Noyades"  adventure  to  a  literary  man  of 
Boston,  upon  his  asking  me  how,  when  a  student, 
in  classes  with  men-students,  reading  Greek  and 
Latin  with  men-instructors — how  I  managed 
when  I  came  upon  sentences  saying  what  we 
moderns  deem  immodest.  The  literator  said  he 
was  seeking  my  help  to  arguments  he  purposed 
to  make  for  the  admission  of  women  to  univer- 
sities. 

At  that  hour,  I  should  for  clarity  add,  a  quota 
of  men  wrote  and  talked  against  the  education 
of  women,  and  women's  study  of  Greek  and 
Latin ;  saying,  for  instance,  that  passages  in  the 
old  classics  written  in  the  naturalism  of  the 


172  CEBTAIN  WHO  DWELT 

ancients,  would  instruct  our  American  girls  in 
what  they  should  not  know;  would  brush  the 
bloom  from  the  grape,  harden  tender  minds,  sug- 
gest there  was  sex  in  the  world.  To  read  that 
a  poet  kissed  a  maid  might  be  permitted  girls — 
staid  Maria  Edgeworth  and  Jane  Austen  would 
allow  that;  but  without  loss  of  mental  cleanli- 
ness, even,  perhaps,  of  moral  standards,  young 
women  could  not  know  how  many  times  Catullus 
sang  he  had  kissed,  or  was  going  to  kiss,  Lesbia. 

All  expression  as  to  sex  that  girls  might, 
without  contamination,  assimilate,  seemed,  to 
these  men's  thinking,  to  lie  in  an  Old  Testament ; 
if  sex-knowledge  defiles,  a  defiler  outstripping 
the  classics.* 

"What"  said  the  literator  in  the  interview 
he  had  sought,  "What  did  yon  do  when  you,  a 
student,  came  upon  Greek  and  Latin  passages 
not  in  accord  with  our  view  of  modesty?" 

1  'I  saw  them  in  my  reading  at  home.  In  class- 
room I  skipped  the  matter  and  made  no  refer- 
ence to  it." 

*Again,  "What  changes  may  one  life  see!"  A  etudy- 
enauioured  Anglo-American  girt  shocking  a  group  of  married 
women  by  reading  to  them  a  Swinburne  ballad,  in  the 
eighteen-seventies !  An  Anglo-American  literary  man 
analyzing  the  women's  prejudices,  in  the  eighteen-eighties, 
in  his  labor  to  overcome  other  prejudices!  And  to-day's 
girl ! — her  Thais  plays  and  Thais  operas ;  her  clothing,  de- 
vised mainly  by  an  exotic,  oriental  people  and  reflecting 
the  character  of  the  parasitic  odalisque. 


173 

"And  the  professor — didn't  he?"  pursued  the 
doctor  of  letters  in  probing  spirit. 

' '  Never.  Spontaneously,  tacitly,  such  matters 
were  passed  by.  You  pass  them  by,  everybody 
passes  them  by  when  they  come  up  in  readings 
in  churches  and  other  public  places.  Our  stu- 
dents, men  and  women  alike,  merely  treated 
sentences  objectionable  from  our  day's  point  of 
view  as  if  they  were  not  there." 

"Didn't  anything  embarrassing  ever  happen?" 
persisted  the  literary  man. 

"Not  while  I  was  a  student.  When  I  had  the 
chair  of  Greek  a  boy  one  day  snickered  on  com- 
ing to  such  a  passage.  His  laugh  was  not  em- 
barrassing, nauseating  rather,  and  the  young 
men  of  the  class  treated  his  amusement  in  a  way 
that  taught  him  better  manners — you  can  always 
trust  the  clean  instincts  of  the  university  boy. 
Passages,  such,  for  instance,  as  the  last  of  the 
third  book  of  "The  Iliad,"  students  merely 
passed  over.  They  saw  what  they  were  outside 
class-room." 

"You  say  you  were  fond  of  Swinburne's 
poetry,  even  when  you  were  seventeen,"  con- 
tinued the  litterateur  (if  one  may  report  to  the 
very  limit  of  digression),  "What  about  his  out- 
speaking?" 

"I  loved  Swinburne  for  his  freshness,  his 


174  CEETAIN  WHO  DWELT 

Greek  quality,  his  marvellous  music.  You  do 
not  go  to  Swinburne  for  ideas — perhaps  we  may 
except  impassioned  democracy,  praise  of  the 
glory  of  liberty.  The  sexuality  of  his  poems 
and  ballads  an  American  girl  does  not  think  of, 
sees  only  as  a  faint  shadow.  His  music,  as  the 
choruses  in  "Atalanta  in  Calydon,"  his  love  of 
freedom,  his  revolt  from  inept,  smoothly-pol- 
ished phrases,  his  color,  his  tumbling  waves  of 
rhythm  recalling  the  motion  of  the  salt  sea  he 
sang — these  kept  his  books  in  my  hands  for 
years. 

"You  can  not  deny  American  girls  of  Protes- 
tant training  a  native  purity.  For  some  reason 
they  do  not  know,  or  do  not  understand  the 
meretricious.  They  don't  interpret  it  when  it 
is  set  before  them.  Of  Protestant  training,  I 
say,  because  I  have  seen  other  girls  more  sophis- 
ticated." 

If  what  I  told  the  literator  enriched  his  argu- 
ment I  do  not  now  recall.  In  those  days  the 
Boston  mind,  whether  of  Beacon  Hill,  Back 
Bay  or  Columbus  Avenue,  not  yet  fully  con- 
scious of  its  new  status  of  loss  of  leadership, 
still  maintaining  a  de  Jiaut  en  bas  attitude 
toward  the  rest  of  the  country,  showed  distrust 
of  whatever  generated  outside,  especially  west- 
ward of,  its  circumference. 


EARLIER  DAYS  AT  THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  KANSAS 


WINDS  OF  DELPHIC  KANSAS 

Half -west,  half -east;  half -north,  half -south; 
As  in  Grecian  Delphi  in  days  of  old, 
The  centre  of  the  world  as  men  then  told; 

The  winds  l)low  ever,  and  through  a  god's  mouth. 

O  the  snow-footed,  ice-armored  winds  of  the  prairie, 

Rushing  out  mightily 
From  cosmic  caves  of  the  north, 
From  glacial  forces  of  earth  and  air, 

The  winter  winds  of  the  prairie! 
They  drive  dark  clouds  from  morn  to  morn; 
They  shake  the  light  o'er  stubbles  of  corn; 
They  whistle  through  woods  of  leaves  all  shorn, 
With  never  a  hint  of  the  spring  to  be  born; 

The  flesh-freezing  winds  of  the  prairie  I 

Half-north,  half-south;  half-east,  half-west; 
The  airs  pour  ever;  the  winds  never  rest; 

O  the  sun-lifted,  cotton-soft  winds  of  the  prairie, 

Cheering  right  merrily 
From  tillage  lands  of  the  south, 
From  warmth  of  breeding  southern  seas, 

The  June-sweet  winds  of  the  prairie! 
They  drive  silver  clouds  all  day  to  its  close, 
And  shake  glowing  light  on  young  corn  in  rows; 
They  rock  the  trees  till  the  small  birds  drowse; 
They  swirl  the  fragrance  of  wild-grape  and  rose; 

The  seminal  winds  of  the  prairie! 


176 


Half~*outh,  half-north;  half-west,  half-east; 
A  people  intoxicate;  and  winds  do  not  cease; 

O  the  free-state,  Puritan-spirited  winds  of  the  prairie. 

Singing  right  heartily 
That  gods  were  but  folk  who  were  free, 
That  folk  who  are  free  are  at  gods; 

The  human-voiced  winds  of  the  prairie! 
They  call  Brown  of  bloody-blade  from  Osawatomle; 
They  smite  swift  the  shackle — the  slave  is  free; 
To  all  the  world  they  say  in  their  humanity 
"Come  here  and  build  a  home  loyal  to  me;" 
The  primal-souled  winds  of  the  prairie! 

Half -east,  half -west;  half -south,  half -north; 

All  forces  here  meet,  but  the  free  alone  art  worth; 

O  the  self-reliant,  right-seeking  winds  of  the  prairie, 
Blowing  out  lustily 

From  the  race-brood  of  New  England 

In  this  western  New  England; 
The  altruistic,  rainbow- future  winds  of  the  prairie! 
They  strive  ever  after  the  ideal — Better!  Better! 
Till  to-day  they  sing  "Melior!  Brook  no  fetter! 
Of  freedom  the  spirit  seek  ye;  not  the  letter! 
Melior!  Melior!  Better!  Better!" 

The  cloud-dispelling,  star-climbing  winds  of  the  prairie! 

80,  prophetic  in  zeal,  through  hot  winds  and  cold; 

As  in  Grecian  Delphi  in  days  of  old; 

The  centre  of  the  world  as  men  then  told; 
Half-west,  half-east;  half-north,  half-south; 
The  Spirit  speaks  ever,  and  through  a  god's  mouth. 


177 


TO  THE  UNIVERSITY 

At  moon-drawn  waters  rise  to  heights 
From  deep,  far  places  in  the  sea; 
80  shall  thy  people  seek  the  Right 
Led  by  a  steadfast  strength  in  thee. 

What  Light  thy  folk  shall  have  is  thine; 
Their  darkness — they  did  not  aspire 
To  reach  toward   thy  gleaming  shrine, 
And  seize  they  all-illuming  fire. 


"WITNESS  UNTO  THE  TRUTH" 

"Thou  shalt  not  bear  false  witness",  spoke  the 
of  Israel  on  Horeb's  barren  height. 

"Unto  the  truth  bear  witness",  speaks  the  Voice 
Of  every  folk  who  strengthens  in  the  Right : — 
To  men  of  Athens  in  vast  jury  courts 
Judging  their  brother  Greek  by  law  and  fact; 
To  Romans  in  their  order  and  reports 
Of  the  Twelve  Tables  and  juridic  act; 
To  Paul,  the  evangel,  who  flamed  his  faith 
For  Jew  and  Gentile  round  the  Midland  shore; 
To  Mahomet,  the  Arab,  him  who  saith 
"Thy  justice  knoweth  God  for  evermore". 

"Unto  the  truth  bear  witness",  urge  with  awe 
All  codes  and  ethics  of  our  School  of  Law. 


178 


A  SOWER  TO  THE  SPIRIT 

To  be  razed,  first  fane  of  the  state's  pure  learning! 
Thou,  North  College! 

After  twenty  thousand  suns  thy  walls  have  watched  ritiny 
beyond  the  river! 

Now,  by  ice-freighted  storms  of  winter  thou  hast  withstood; 
by  winds  of  March  thou  hast  buffeted;  by  cloud-em- 
battled, thunder-bolted  June  rains  thou  hast  braved : 

Tea,  more — 

By  the  unconquerable  spirit  of  man! 

By  all  civic  loyalties  since  Demosthenes  lifted  the  heart  of 
the  people  of  Athens; 

By  all  sincerities  and  pieties  since  the  singing  of  Homer 
and  Virgil; 

By  Anglo-Saxon  state-makers,  from  whose  flaming  ardor  for 
freedom  thou  didst  spring;  by  craftsmen  who  set  thy 
brick  on  brick,  puncheon  over  puncheon,  that  wisdom 
might  house  within  their  inchoate  commonwealth; 

Thou  shalt  not  perish. 

Whatever  generations  Kansas  folk  stand  fast  fixed  in 
loyalty  to  their  state-founders'  ideals — loyalty  to  truth, 
to  justice  and  exalting  teachings; 

Whatever  generations  Kansas  folk  abide  sensible  of  the 
mightiest  of  gifts; 

Thou  shalt  live  on. 

"He  that  soweth  to  the  Spirit  shall  of  the  Spirit  reap  life 
everlasting." 

Through  all  generations,  seeder  of  wisdom  of  the  ages, 
thou  shalt  endure. 

179 


EARLIER  DAYS  AT  THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  KANSAS 


Founders  of  our  government  and  old-time 
prophets  of  our  people,  the  Puritans  are,  we 
repeat,  to-day  the  heart  of  the  American  nation- 
ality. Their  instinct  for  state-building  did  away 
with  the  autocrat,  and  showed  all  peoples  of 
the  earth  the  road  to  liberty  and  the  pursuit  of 
happiness. 

They  would  purify  life  of  mouthing  profes- 
sions ;  and  stand  only  by  truth.  In  their  think- 
ing truth  could  not  be  too  hard  provender  for 
any  mind.  Therefore  they  would  do  away  with 
symbols  in  every  relation  of  the  individual. 
Symbols  to  their  earnestness  intruded  upon 
truth,  distorted  truth,  at  last  displaced  truth, 
and  by  substitutions  weakened  and  disordered 
the  people's  intellect. 

The  Puritan  was  an  unalienable  democrat. 
He  loved  simple  form  in  his  government,  simple 
statements  in  his  religion,  simple  humanity  in 

181 


182  EAHTJEB  DAYS  AT 

his  morals;  even  simple  form  and  color  in  his 
dwelling  and  meeting  honse. 

The  Puritan  was  a  utilitarian  as  well  as  an 
idealist. 

Such  also  were  Puritan  offspring,  the  early 
people  of  Kansas,  carrying  onward  Puritan 
traditions.  They  aimed  to  clean  life  of  the  lie 
that  equitable  work  degrades,  and  of  supersti- 
tions hostile  to  the  fellowship  of  man.  They 
were  futurists,  zealots,  old-time  Americans,  the 
strong  and  even  the  weak  striving  for  an  idea, 
steeped  in  constructive  optimism,  laborers 
towards  a  utilitarian  Utopia,  seeking  conditions 
which  they  knew  had  never  existed  anywhere, 
first  of  all  giving  themselves. 

Our  democratic,  Puritan  way,  you  see,  whose 
course  here  in  America  started  when  the  Eng- 
lish devouts  set  foot  on  this  continent.  Through 
their  blood  and  their  transmitted  spirit,  it  has 
gone  on  to  this  hour. 

So  our  human  kind  goes  forward,  driving  on, 
blundering  on  through  lives  of  generations, 
eying  a  light  afar  off,  aiming  at  the  right  thing, 
sometimes  doing  it,  often  failing,  but  never  put- 
ting aside  effort  to  reach  its  shining  goal. 

Now,  in  this  paragraph  only,  let  us  look  back 
to  centuries  before  our  Puritans,  when  schools 
were  for  the  education  of  churchmen,  when 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  KANSAS  183 

priests  and  brotherhoods  were  the  reservoirs  of 
learning ;  preserves,  transcribers,  commentators, 
employing  their  time  and  strength  to  keep  and 
exalt  rules  and  authorities  upon  which  their 
ease,  their  honor  and  life  itself  rested.  What 
their  schools  taught  served  theologians  and  the 
ends  of  theology.  The  people  at  large  were 
sunk  in  gross  ignorance;  their  natural  growth 
dwarfed,  their  minds  unawakened,  stupefied  by 
unremitting  toil  to  gain  their  scantiest  physical 
sustenance.  Events  brought  about  emancipation 
of  intellectual  life  in  the  Restoration  of  Learn- 
ing. In  the  next  century  sprang  forward  eman- 
cipation of  religious  life  in  the  Great  Reforma- 
tion. Then,  in  the  seventeenth  century,  followed 
emancipation  of  political  life  in  the  Puritan 
Revolution. 

In  their  heirship  of  these  three  great  move- 
ments our  Puritans  embodied  a  regnant  prin- 
ciple of  Protestantism  whose  preciousness  has 
been  put  by  many,  but  by  none  better  than 
Shakespeare  in  this  sentence; 

"Ignorance  is  the  curse  of  God ; 
Knowledge  the  wing  wherewith  we  fly  to  heaven". 

Puritans,  that  is,  developed  a  passion  for 
founding  schools  and  teaching  children.  *  *  After 
God  had  carried  us  safe  to  New  England,  and  we 


184  •RATtljg'B  DAYS  AT 


had  builded  our  houses,  provided  necessaries 
for  our  livelihood,  reared  convenient  places  for 
God's  worship,  and  settled  the  civil  government, 
one  of  the  next  things  we  longed  for,  and  looked 
after,  was  to  advance  learning  and  perpetuate 
it  to  posterity." 

With  the  result  that  those  Puritans  who  came 
to  American  soil  made  our  race's  early  history, 
in  good  degree,  the  effort  of  an  earnest  people 
to  set  in  sun-hright  clarity  education's  benefac- 
tions. 

These  old  Puritan  ideas  the  early  Kansans 
inherited.*  Obedient  to  their  mighty  estate,  in 
the  evolution  of  order  in  their  commonwealth, 
they  proceeded  to  build  toward  their  educa- 
tional ideal. 

The  ideal  took  on  the  form  of  a  pyramid,  you 
might  say  —  yet  a  pyramid  greater  than  any 
people  before  their  times  had  ever  reared.  Cen- 
turies ago,  near  three-score,  old  Khufu  —  to  cite 
the  most  renowned  of  all  who  built  pyramids 
heretofore  —  old  Cheops  set  the  vast  pyramid 

*So  early  as  October,  1854  (shortly  after  the  passage  of 
the  Kansas-Nebraska  Bill)  the  first  governor  of  Kansas 
territory,  Andrew  H.  Reeder,  said  in  a  speech  at  Lawrence 
City  (reported  in  the  Herald  of  Freedom,  No.  3,  Vol.  1)  ; 
"It  is  important  to  a  state  that  the  people  should  be  edu- 
cated; for  when  they  are  thoroughly  educated  they  under- 
stand their  own  rights,  and  know  how  to  defend  the  rights 
of  others." 


THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   KANSAS  185 

which  bears  his  name  upon  Sahara's  sands,  cov- 
ering upwards  of  thirteen  acres.  With  the  labor 
of  slaves  he  vaingloriously  made  a  dead-house 
to  preserve  the  embalmed  flesh  of  an  absolute 
sovereign. 

But  the  early  individualists  of  Kansas  built 
their  pyramid,  greater  than  any  pyramid  ever 
raised  save  in  other  states  building  with  like 
ideals — the  early  individualists  of  Kansas  built 
their  pyramid  as  a  living-house  for  making  best 
possible,  forward-looking  citizens  of  a  democ- 
racy, any  one  loyal  citizen  being  worth  many 
absolute  sovereigns;  a  living-house,  not  upon 
sands  of  a  desert,  but  rock-founded  in  a  rich 
soil  materially  and  spiritually  housing  and  fur- 
thering the  soul  of  its  people. 

This  greatest  of  pyramids,  the  educational,  the 
Kansans  reared  over  the  whole  vast  acreage 
of  their  state — its  base  the  common  school  for 
every  child ;  and,  superimposed  on  the  common, 
high  schools  for  all  who  would  seek  them.  And 
above  these  secondary  schools  university  teach- 
ings of  what  is  for  all  ages  true — teachings 
affording  Everybody  content  of  that  which  the 
spirit  of  man  has  wrung  from  his  own  soul,  and 
from  the  nature  about  him,  through  the  aeons 
of  our  human  evolution.  A  pyramid,  you  see, 
built  on  preserving  and  glorifying  everlastingly 


186  EARLIER  DAYS  AT 

not  one  dead  prince,  but  a  whole,  united,  vital 
people. 

This  educational  pyramid,  stretching  the 
length  of  Kansas,  four  hundred  miles,  and  its 
breadth,  two  hundred  miles,  has  then  for  its  apex 
a  university,  a  House  of  Light,  testifying  that 
its  supporters  apply  ideas  to  life  with  over- 
whelming force. 

For  any  democracy  must  be  loyal  to  the  truth 
that  instruction  of  the  people  in  the  imperish- 
able ideals  of  humanity  forwards  that  people, 
and  raises  the  plane  of  their  knowledge  and  of 
their  ethics. 

And  the  Kansans  set  it,  this  Light-House  of 
their  educational  ideal,  upon  a  wind-driven  hill ; 
with  result  that  all  comers  to  Laurel  Town,  and 
all  passers-by  Laurel  Town,  may  see  its  outer 
beauty  and  behold  what  a  beacon  the  people 
have,  what  a  treasure  and  guide  to  safe-journey- 
ings,  if  in  the  future,  they  shall  welter  through 
any  void  of  mystery  and  dread. 

In  another  way,  also,  this  university  of  the 
"Kansans  should  embody  their  educational  ideals. 
With  genuine  democratic  spirit  those  lonely, 
passionate,  experimental  founders  would  have 
education  broaden  and  deepen  all  human  life. 
Not  men's  alone.  Women,  as  well,  should  be 
students.  A  golden  leaf  from  Aristotle's 


THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   KANSAS  187 

"Politics"  they  carried  in  their  hearts — a  prin- 
ciple, in  fact,  which  affected  nearly  all  their 
foundation:  " Women  and  children  must  be 
trained  by  education  with  an  eye  to  the  state,  if 
the  virtues  of  either  make  any  difference  in  the 
virtue  of  the  state.  And  they  must  make  a  dif- 
ference ;  for  the  children  grow  up  to  be  citizens, 
and  half  the  free  persons  in  a  state  are  women." 

The  sentiment  that  would  abolish  women- 
competitors  in  what  men  esteem  their  fields  of 
labor  has  often  worked  against  women  in  democ- 
racies, overbalanced  men's  judgment  and  led  to 
malignant  injustices.  Men  have  been  little  dis- 
posed to  raise  women  from  ages-long  position 
as  handmaid  in  their  works  and  ambitions  to  a 
rivalship  in  the  same  ambitions  and  works.  As 
a  rule  aristocracies  have  been  more  generous  to 
women  than  democracies. 

But  in  Kansas,  when  a  state-making  ideal,  in 
angry  revolt  against  social  iniquities,  would  take 
the  people  in  its  arms  and  lift  them  heavenward, 
deepen  consciousness  of  their  life  and  vocation 
by  competent  knowledge  of  the  mysteries  of 
the  great  nature  about  them,  by  ideas  of  what 
other  dwellers  on  earth  have  done;  in  Kansas, 
when  state-making  ideals  dominated,  their  or- 
gans of  expression  determined  that  women,  with 
men,  should  profit  by  whatever  education  the 


188  EAKLIEB  DAYS  AT 

state  afforded.  "  Where  there  is  no  vision," 
said  an  old  maxim-maker,  "the  people  perish." 
Contrariwise,  where  there  is  vision,  the  people 
thrive.  So  came  the  University  of  Kansas — 
result  of  the  leaguing  of  a  long-visioned  people. 
Strange  that  through  its  history  short-vis- 
ioned  folks  should  assail  the  institution,  its 
every  evolving  interest,  its  every  expanding  am- 
bition. Fortunately  for  the  state  the  myopic 
have  numbered  fewer  than  the  far-sighted.  At 
times  in  the  world's  history  long-visioned  people 
have  counted  less  than  the  short.  Ten  righteous 
men  could  once  save  a  city;  and  old  Abram 
prayed.  Yet  the  city  perished. 

II 

It  was  now  the  eighteen-sixties ;  in  Kansas; 
and  Civil  War  ended.  Hardly  had  the  people 
eased  their  hands  of  the  rifle,  however,  and 
strengthened  their  gaunt  forms  from  the  win- 
ning, when  booms  began  assailing  their  ears — 
money-mad  bondsellers  exciting  the  futurists  to 
town-building  and  county-forming,  to  railway 
construction,  to  cattle-raising,  to  irrigation- 
ditch-digging.  In  other  words,  astute  financiers 
in  eastern  counting  houses  played  with  the  vir- 
tuous weaknesses  of  idealistic  pioneer-agricul- 


THE    UNIVERSITY   OF    KANSAS  189 

turists — sanguine  temperaments  always  "going 
to  be"  prosperous;  and  so  fired  their  imagina- 
tion that  at  times  they  called  special  poll-days 
for  voting  their  little  moneys  to  the  conscience- 
less counter-desks ;  and  gave  not  only  their  own 
strength  and  time,  but  their  men  and  horses, 
their  machinery  to  fill  the  counter-desks'  pockets 
— something  of  the  old-time  saint,  something  of 
the  old-time  martyr;  quite  as  much  Tartarin  of 
Tarascon  as  Don  Quixote,  you  see. 

But  disappointments  came  and  reactions  set 
in.  Discontent  with  the  farmers'  social  condi- 
tion, demand  for  a  voice  in  affairs  commensur- 
ate with  their  economic  value,  dissatisfaction 
with  charges  of  middlemen  and  with  discrimina- 
tion of  railways,  protest  against  lessening  prices 
of  the  soil-tillers  product,  at  last  led  farmers  to 
co-operate,  and  to  their  forming  a  party  which 
entered  practical  politics  under  the  name  of 
Grangers. 

The  Granger  movement  was  a  protest,  we 
say.  "The  old  feudal  system,"  farmers  reas- 
oned, "sprang  up  when  the  chief  form  of  wealth 
was  land.  On  one  side  was  the  rich  man  who, 
to  get  an  income  from  his  tenure,  rented  it  for 
service.  On  the  other  was  the  man  who  had  his 
service  to  sell ;  which  he  traded  for  th'e  use  of 
the  ground. 


190  EAELIEB  DAYS  AT 

"In  this  new  feudal  system  burgeoning  about 
us,  wbere  the  chief  form  of  wealth  is  commerce, 
the  man  rich  in  all  the  vast  material  of  commerce 
is  the  baron.  He  gets  an  income  by  renting 
berths  to  the  poor  man  with  labor  to  barter, 
pinches  us  land-workers  as  his  legitimate  spoil 
and  cheapens  our  product. 

"Just  as  in  old  centuries  the  baron,  or  rich 
man,  gobbled  small  lands  and  demanded  service 
from  the  freeholder,  so  now  'Big  Interests/ 
railways  and  other  corporations,  swallow  little 
businesses,  crowd  to  the  wall  few-acre,  inde- 
pendent fanners  and  small  traders,  starve  them 
into  selling  out,  and  force  them  to  gain  support 
in  dependencies  and  offices  of  their  employ. 
To-day  in  the  huge  armies  of  commerce-clerks 
and  meagre  farmings,  we  have  incipient  serf 
conditions. 

"In  the  old  time  the  strong  seized  the  rights 
of  government.  The  court  that  enforced  the 
law  was  their  court." 

By  such  reasonings  the  Granger  movement 
strengthened,  and  became  an  outstanding  pro- 
test of  the  American  pioneer  against  develop- 
ments and  complexities  he  could  not  meet;  his 
organized  declaration  against  gradual  enchain- 
ing— in  fact,  the  first  united  agriculturists* 
voice  in  the  now  world-wide  cry  for  the  eman- 


THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   KANSAS  191 

cipation  of  the  workers'  life;  an  on-coming 
emancipation  whose  final  fruits  must  be  men 
and  women  so  large-sonled  that  money  to  them 
means  what  the  word  itself,  in  an  early  use, 
signified,  the  adviser;  people  so  honorable  in 
word  and  deed  that  their  simplicity  makes 
decked-out  show  and  pomp  ridiculous. 

Spread  of  Grangers'  tenets  accomplished 
great  good.  Kansas  stump-speakers  from 
Granger  cohorts,  however,  during  one  of  the 
hottest  campaigns  of  the  eighteen-seventies, 
misrepresented  the  university.  They  threatened 
to  cut  off  legislative  appropriations  which  sup- 
portefl  it,  and  cried  out  that  the  professors  were 
a  lot  of  "old  barnacles;"  that  they  would  dis- 
member the  institution  altogether  if  they  should 
win  at  the  polls.  Twilight  of  election  day 
showed  Grangers  sweeping  the  state. 

As  we  look  back  now,  the  threats  of  these  cam- 
paigners become  mere  perfervid  ignorance,  red- 
rag  oratory.  The  university  was  not  dilacer- 
ated.  It  lived  on,  and  to-day  bears  proof  of 
health  in  its  survival  after  certain  ideas  and  men 
inducted  into  its  life-current — its  vigor  remind* 
ing  you  of  a  super-healthy  human  body  immune 
from  stated  maladies  after  fever-giving  serums 
have  been  injected  in  its  blood. 

This  night  of  the  Granger  election  in  the  early 


192  EAELIEE  DAYS  AT 

seventies,  however,  when  Laurel  Town  had  re- 
ceived returns  and  closed  her  polls,  a  group  of 
young  men-students,  eagerly  watching  incoming 
figures,  saw  for  the  future  only  a  ruthless  carry- 
ing out  of  Granger  threats  and  the  crushing  of 
a  university  they  loved. 

Before  a  single  adverse  act  of  the  party  arriv- 
ing at  power,  their  loyalty  was  forecasting  oppo- 
sition, plotting  revenge,  giving  itself  as  inex- 
perience will,  as  youth  will,  to  sudden,  blind, 
retaliatory  feeling,  to  the  raging  reprisal  of  the 
herd. 

An  impulse  struck  them  to  arm  with  staves 
and  raid  the  country-side.  They  had  no  clear 
thought,  no  definite  plan  of  action.  Grangers 
were  farmers;  farmers  Grangers;  therefore  all 
soil-tillers,  no  matter  how  unoffending,  however 
non-Granger,  object  of  their  spirit  of  vengeance. 

Precisely  such  instincts  as  led  our  forebears 
to  forays  famed  in  song  and  story  gripped  these 
boys.  Back  in  the  centuries,  and  yet  not  so  very 
far  back  either,  when  our  ancestors  lived  in  Eng- 
land and  Scotland  and  Ireland  and  other  parts 
of  Europe,  neighbors  in  armed  bands  pillaged 
one  another  to  gain  some  possession,  or  for 
sport.  In  early  Ireland,  when  all  land  was  com- 
mon and  property  lay  mainly  in  herds,  men 
took  their  every-day  exercise  in  cattle-spoiling. 


THE   UNIVEBSITY   OF   KANSAS  193 

"The  Cattle-raid  of  Cooley"  incited  the  greatest 
of  Irish  epics.  "Fleet  foot  in  the  foray"  stood 
on  every  march  between  old  Wales  and  Eng- 
land, Scotland  and  England,  and  even  on  bound- 
ary lands  of  France  and  Italy.  Our  race  bal- 
lads, such  as  "The  Hunting  of  the  Cheviot," 
make  this  clear.  So  also  our  chronicles.  Frois- 
sart's  tale  of  the  battle  of  Otterbourn  pictures 
the  Scots  "doing  many  sore  displeasures," 
"burning  and  exiling  the  country"  when  they 
penetrated  England. 

That  night  of  the  Grangers*  victory  in  Kan- 
sas, we  say,  these  university  students  were  pos- 
sessed of  impulses  inherited  by  our  north-of- 
Europe  races.  Who  knows  but  the  very  blood 
of  Hotspur,  or  of  James  Douglas,  went  cours- 
ing through  veins  of  more  than  one  of  the  boys? 
Not  a  soul  of  them,  probably,  who  had  not  come 
down  from  fighters  at  Chevy  Chase,  or  like  con- 
tests. Then,  besides  this,  there  were  the  group- 
impulses  of  forefathers  in  town-against-gown, 
gown-against-town  life. 

m. 

A  north-west  wind  had  cleared  the  sky,  and 
a  fulling  moon  filled  the  night  with  such  splendor 
that  the  earth  whitened  where  its  light  struck, 


194  EARLIER  DAYS  AT 

and  "bold,  black  shadows  lay  back  of  all  that  op- 
posed its  pale  glory.  The  dry,  packed  ground, 
frost-hardened,  rang  under  footsteps  as  if  it 
were  iron. 

An  exhilerating  night !  With  its  stimulus  of 
cold,  brilliant,  electric  air,  undeniably  a  night 
to  develop  a  temper  for  walking.  To  study  such 
a  night!  To  sleep  such  a  night!  Not  when 
Grangers  had  swept  the  state. 

"What's  the  use,  anyway!  A  fortnight  and 
there  won't  be  a  university  to  go  to." 

"Then  why  worry  about  that  assignment  of 
Tacitus  I" 

"And  those  problems  in  calculus !" 

"That  Bestimmung  of  Fichte!" 

"Have  at  'em !  Have  at  'em,"  the  band  roared, 
* '  Grangers !  Grangers !" 

Noise  is  necessary  in  a  sally — unless  secrecy 
and  victory  are  pledged.  Not  merely  one  hot, 
flashing  shout — that  does  not  let  off  electric  cur- 
rents. Rhythm  leads  the  blood  to  even  beating, 
unifies  feeling  and  chokes  back  individual  con- 
science pressing  to  the  fore.  Sing  they  must. 
"Marching  through  Georgia"  they  began;  and 
soon  "Maryland,  my  Maryland." 

A  buoyant  air  carried  their  voices  far.  Wives 
who  had  gathered  husband  and  children  round 
the  family  reading  lamp — a  favorite  way  of 


THE   TJNIVEBSITY   OP   KANSAS  195 

spending  the  evening  in  those  days — listened 
wondering,  and  sent  "honey"  to  the  door  to  see 
what  the  passing  singers  meant.  "  Only  univer- 
sity-boys, mother  dear,"  the  scout  reported. 

These  student-forayers,  we  say,  bore  through 
the  town  northwestwardly,  till  street  and  house 
no  longer  hemmed  their  way  and  they  had 
traversed  the  big  ravine. 

A  country  road,  picketed  on  either  side  by 
osage-orange  hedges  opened  before  their  eyes. 
Through  such  brambles  f  orayers  might  not  enter 
Grangers'  acres. 

Forward  then ! 

Forward  to  the  little  ravine;  then  across  it, 
and  so  on  till  at  last  they  reached  the  north 
woods  spoken  of  on  page  eight  foregoing — those 
north  woods  from  whose  depths  the  music  of 
whip-poor-wills  wailed  in  moon-lit,  summer 
nights. 

Fate  no  man  can  explicate.  What  lot  now 
swerved  these  self-appointed  requiters  off  the 
main  road  and  down  a  by-path  not  one  of  them 
could  ever  afterwards  tell.  From  their  spirit 
reason,  good-sense,  had  fled.  Youth's  fun-mak- 
ing and  youth's  rage  for  mere  action,  even  if 
inept,  had  the  lead. 

William  Crooks,  an  American  of  the  old 
bound-to-win-out,  "over-the-mountains"  stock, 


196  EARLIER  DAYS  AT 

had  united  his  fortune  with  a  buxom  wife  back  in 
his  native  state ;  and  after  tacking  and  veering 
their  prairie-schooner  to  Kansas,  they  had 
settled  in  a  little  house  near  the  north  woods, 
with  such  belongings  as  delight  thrifty  soil- 
dwellers  gathered  about  them. 

This  moonlit  night  their  cottage  stood  calm 
and  silent.  Inside  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Crooks  were 
sleeping  the  sleep  of  tired  muscles  and  peace  of 
mind ;  and  on  their  perches  in  an  outhouse  hard 
by  sat  the  lady's  birds,  snugly  somnolent,  fold- 
ing wings  over  twenty  to  thirty  pounds  apiece 
avoirdupois — fat  bronze  turkeys,  and  at  this 
November  election-night  ready  for  Thanksgiv- 
ing and  Christmas  markets. 

A  roost  so  remote  from  the  main  road  had 
little  need  of  padlock.  Any  one  might  take  the 
pin  from  the  post  and  swing  back  the  door. 

"What's  this!" 

"A  roost!" 

"A  roost!" 

A  f  orayer's  hand  draws  the  pin  and  opens  the 
door. 

"Do  I  see  chickens!" — peering  inside. 

"Do  I!" 

All  try  to  thrust  their  heads  in. 

"No,  I  do  not  see  chickens." 

"What  do  I  see!" 


THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   KANSAS  197 

"Turkeys!" 

"T-u-r-k-s." 

"A  brace  of  the  birds!  What  d'ye  say?" 

"Three  would  make  it  surer!" 

"A  feast!' 

"Draw  their  blood  and  pledge  everlasting  war 
on  Grangers." 

' '  Careful !  Gemini !  Grab  their  throats  so  they 
won't  squawk." 

The  f  orayers  rush  up  the  hill,  toward  the  main- 
traveled  roacl,  hugging  the  fowls  so  tight  that 
not  a  sound  could  escape  their  beaks. 

"Let's  find  a  place  to  roast  'em." 

"Not  round  here.   What'd  we  cook  'em  in?" 

A  moment's  pause. 

" Confound  it!  What  shall  we  do  with  the 
blamed  things  now  we've  got  'em  ?  Can  n't  take 
'em  to  a  landlady — she'd  say  why  this? — and 
why  that  ? — and  go  off  on  her  ear." 

"Got  to  cook  'em  ourselves." 

"Cook  'em  ourselves!  You  know  a  lot  about 
it!" 

"Huh !  I  helped  two  summers  in  our  Colorado 
camp." 

"Well,  then,  where?" 

Chorus:    "Yes,  oh-h-h  where?" 

*  *  I've  got  it !  Donegal,  that  fellow  with  grades 
in  zoology — janitor — batches  in  basement  of  old 


198  EARLIER  DAYS  AT 

North  College;  probably  basn't  bad  a  bite  of 
anything  but  corn  pone  and  bacon  since  Sep- 
tember." 

"Will  he  keep  'em  till  to-morrow  night,  do 
you  think?" 

"Gee!  By  that  time  we  can  get  bread  and 
things ;  cook  'em  by  his  stove !" 

"A  grasshopper  sat  on  a  sweet  potato  vine", 

struck  up  the  van  entering  the  main  road. 

"A  sweet  potato  vine,  a  sweet  potato  vine !" 

echoed  the  rear  line. 

"A  turkey  gobbler  waltzed  up  behind, 

And  yanked  him  off  that  sweet  potato  vine", 

yelled  every  cub-f orayer. 

But  singing  was  too  poor.  They  must  dram- 
atize the  song.  One  forayer  must  be  a  sweet 
potato  vine.  Another  the  grasshopper.  Still 
another  must  waltz  about  and,  with  great  show 
of  a  pecking  turkey,  "yank"  the  grasshopper 
off  the  vine. 

In  such  mental  and  moral  vacuity  they  trooped 
back  to  Laurel  Town,  the  marvellous  moonlight 
casting  their  figures  on  the  broad  highway  in  a 
blackness  as  dark  as  their  deeds. 

Town  gained,  they  made  for  North  College, 
and  by  dint  of  beating  on  windows  roused  the 


THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   KANSAS  199 

student-janitor  to  half-awake,  and  left  their 
booty  in  his  hands. 

Next  night  witnessed  the  sacrifice  of  the  birds. 
And  barbarians  never  used  more  binding  rites, 
each  of  the  company  daubing  forehead  and  hand 
with  the  victims'  blood,  pledging  and  vowing, 
as  our  earlier  men  used,  to  gird  his  body  with 
thorns,  to  go  about  with  ash-strewn,  shaven 
head,  and  undertake  other  penance,  if  he  failed 
in  retaliatory  vengence  upon  all  Grangers  dis- 
membering his  faculty  and  withholding  legisla- 
tive support  of  his  university. 

Oaths  sealed  and  ablutions  made,  the  feast 
followed — turkeys,  and  by  their  side  such  dishes 
as  to  boys'  zestful  palates  enhanced  the  meat's 
lusciousness. 

The  morning  of  the  evening  of  this  merry- 
making Mr.  Crooks  rose  early.  Mr.  Crooks  rose 
early  every  morning,  but  now  unwonted  noises 
got  him  out  of  bed.  His  wife's  turkeys  were 
loose,  scratching  close  by  the  house. 

Every  evening,  after  enjoying  the  well- 
balanced  supper  Mrs.  Crooks  prepared,  Mr. 
Crooks  fastened  the  roost-^ioor  with  its  pin.  He 
knew  he  shut  the  door  last  night.  Yet  here  the 
birds  were  outside  their  pen. 

He  surveyed  the  industrious  fowls  through 
the  window.  "Annabella,"  he  called,  buttoning 


200  EARLIER  DAYS  AT 

up  his  waistcoat,  "did  you  say  you  now  have 
fourteen  turkeys?" 

"No,  seventeen,"  answered  his  wife  from  her 
milk-skimming  in  the  pantry. 

"They're  all  out,  and  I  can  n't  count  but  four- 
teen," returned  Mr.  Crooks. 

Mrs.  Crooks  hastened  to  his  side,  and  even 
after  another  numbering,  and  after  a  searching 
of  the  roost  and  looking  in  the  woods  for  wan- 
derers, fourteen  were  all  they  could  muster. 

"Niggers!"  ejaculated  Mr.  Crooks. 

"Niggers!"  echoed  Mrs.  Crooks. 

"I'll  get  a  dog,"  threatened  Mr.  Crooks,  "If 
it  were  the  first  time  those  brickyard  darkies  had 
swiped  a  meal  from  us,  I  might  stand  it.  Them 
shoats  they  stole  last  July  made  a  mighty  fine 
dinner  for  their  Fourth.  A  dog  '11  settle  their 
hash." 

' '  That's  the  way  it  always  is  with  everything 
I  have !"  weakly  wailed  Mrs.  Crooks,  wiping  her 
eyes  on  a  corner  of  her  Kentucky  homespun 
apron,  "I  never  can  have  things  like  other 
people !" 

-A  few  days  after  these  happenings,  Mr. 
Crooks  came  to  see  Judge  Stephens  about  the 
rent  of  more  acres.  Business  done,  he  sat  back 
in  his  chair,  crossed  his  legs  and  told  of  his 
wife's  loss.  So  it  went.  A  farmer  was  the  most 


THE    UNIVERSITY   OF    KANSAS  201 

bedeviled  fellow  on  earth.  Everybody  tried  to 
skin  him,  from  brokers  off  in  Wall  Street  to 
brickyard  darkies  here  in  Laurel  Town. 

Months  and  months,  from  the  day  they 
hatched,  Mrs.  Crooks  had  tended  those  birds, 
picking  the  tnrkey-chicks  ont  of  dew-laden 
weeds,  wrapping  them  in  flannel,  stuffing  pepper- 
corns down  their  throats  to  ward  off  deadly 
chills  and  keep  away  the  pip.  Half  of  her  hatch- 
ings always  die,  for  turkeys  are  hard  to  raise; 
and  now,  just  now,  holidays  coming  on  and 
fowls  getting  highest  market  prices,  here  comes 
a  nigger  and  picks  off  the  finest  three.  Mrs. 
Crooks  is  just  broken-hearted  about  it ;  was  cal- 
culating how  her  turkey-money  would  buy  her  a 
new  winter  dress  and  'low  her  to  send  a  Christ- 
mas present  to  the  folks  back  in  Kaintucky. 

So  Mr.  Crooks  went  on,  conscious  he  was 
meeting  sympathy.  He  knew  many  shoats  and 
turkeys  and  chickens  went  off  from  our  barns 
between  sunset  and  sunrise,  and  never  came 
back.  Still  the  Judge  listened  in  silence.  He  had 
on  his  thinking-cap — but  he  always  had  on  that. 

What  was  the  celebration  to  which  certain 
students,  who  often  visited  us,  had  invited  a 
scion  of  the  house  the  night  after  election?  Why 
had  the  young  freshman  told  nothing  about 
where  he  had  been  and  what  he  had  done  ?  Com- 


202  EARLIER   DAYS  AT 

monly  he  was  fond  of  rehearsing  his  merrymak- 
ings. But  of  this  not  a  word 

Then  why  had  he  said  at  dinner,  only  the  night 
before,  "Turkey's  good;  but  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  seeing  too  much  of  it?" 

Again,  what  was  the  new  badge  he  was  wear- 
ing with  evident  satisfaction,  in  the  way  Greek 
letter  societies  wear  their  pins?  What  did  the 
cross  patee  and  its  letters  conceal?  T — Turkey? 
Eh  ?  C — Catchers — Crusaders  ?  Looks  that  way. 
Had  a  band  of  students  leagued  for  some  pur- 
pose? What  purpose?  Social?  Could  it  have 
any  other  incentive  ?  Who  but  they  knew ! 

When  the  family  met  at  next  meal,  the  Judge 
asked  about  the  cross  dangling  from  a  bit  of  red 
ribbon. 

"Oh,  T.  C.'s — a  new  secret  society." 

"Who  are  the  members?" 

Odd!  The  very  students  hotly  interested  in 
politics  and  vigorously  defensive  of  the  uni- 
versity against  Grangerism ! 

"Did  the  boys  take  the  Grangers'  victory  at 
the  polls  much  to  heart?" 

' '  Oh,  they're  getting  used  to  it  by  this  time" 
— here  an  ill-concealed  smile. 

"Bo  they  still  think  the  Grangers  will  wipe 
the  university  off  the  state's  educational  map  ?" 
"They  don't  know  yet." 


THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   KANSAS  203 

Every  answer  fenced  off  definite  information. 
To  an  expert  reasoner,  clever  in  examining  wit- 
nesses, one  with  so  native  a  gift  at  reading 
human  nature,  a  freshman  may  tell  more  than 
he  thinks  he  does.  The  history,  or  mystery,  of 
Mrs.  Crooks'  turkeys  cleared  to  definite  narra- 
tive. 

The  Judge  talked  the  matter  over  with  the 
Good  Genius  of  our  household  and  determined 
upon  trying  to  recall  the  lightminded  young 
rogues  to  sense  of,  and  reverence  for,  law.  And 
wishing  to  do  this  in  a  way  they  should  not  for- 
get, he  sent  the  fraternity  word  that  he  had 
heard  of  its  foundation  and  had  interest  in  its 
development — would  the  memhers,  therefore, 
take  supper  with  him  on  a  certain  Friday  even- 
ing? 

The  young  rascals  confessed  they  felt  flattered 
by  so  speedy  a  recognition  of  their  union,  and 
every  son  of  them  showed  his  estimate  by  com- 
ing on  the  night  named. 

Flushed  in  face  from  their  long  walk  in  the 
raw  November  air,  they  grouped  about  a  blaz- 
ing fire,  and  their  host,  standing  with  arm  on 
the  shelf  of  the  chimney  piece  told  stories  in  the 
captivating,  story-telling  way  he  had.  The  boys 
seemed  delighted — these  were  true  human  rela- 
tions, a  masterly,  white-haired  man  extending 


204  EARLIER  DAYS  AT 

the  hand  of  fellowship  to  their  untriedness  in 
life. 

Supper  announced,  the  company  filed  into  the 
dining  room.  The  Judge  took  the  head  of  the 
table.  In  front  of  him  a  huge  turkey  lay  upon 
a  platter,  and  midway,  and  at  the  table's  foot, 
rested  its  fellows,  smoking,  fresh  from  the 
oven. 

But  before  he  fell  to  the  old-fashioned  gentle- 
man's carving  of  the  fowl  in  front  of  him,  the 
host  paused  and  began  telling  how  he  had  noted 
that  the  fraternity  had  its  birth  about  the  day 
of  the  Grangers'  victory — in  fact  he  connected 
its  foundation  with  a  story  Mr.  Crooks,  who 
lived  over  by  his  north  woods,  told  him.  The 
badge  of  the  society  seemed,  moreover,  to  con- 
firm his  reasoning.  And  now  he  had  invited  the 
members  to  sup  with  him  in  hopes  of  for  once 
satisfying  their  inordinate  craving  for  the  sus- 
tenance before  them. 

Still  further,  he  wanted  to  say  that  if  ever 
again  they  needed  the  flesh  of  their  totem  for 
any  T.  C.  orgies,  they  should  come  to  him,  and 
he  would  furnish  it ;  but  he  begged  them  never 
again  to  stoop  to  robberies,  or  to  any  breaking 
of  the  law,  even  in  sport. 

He  added  that  their  raid  on  Mrs.  Crook's  roost 
had  deprived  the  dame  of  her  pin-money,  and 


THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   KANSAS  205 

upon  his  concluding  the  thieves  were  not  unlight- 
ened,  brickyard  darkies,  but  enlightened  uni- 
versity students ! ! ! — he  had  sent  her  full  value 
for  the  turkeys  they  had  taken. 

At  sight  of  the  big,  trussed  birds  lying  quite 
alone  upon  the  table,  that  is,  with  neither  sauces 
nor  vegetables  commonly  served  with  their  meat 
just  then  at  hand,  and  at  the  beginning  of  the 
talk,  T.  C.  faces  showed  confusion  and  consterna- 
tion. But  as  the  Judge  went  on,  what  he  said 
making  clear  his  interest  and  affection  and  the 
humor  that  irradiated  his  life,  the  boys  recovered 
their  color  and  poise,  and  his  speech  ended  amid 
their  self -convicting  laughter  and  applause  and 
cries  of  "We  will  come  to  you!" 

In  those  days  many  merry  dinners  and  sup- 
pers consorted  with  my  Mother's  table.  Of  all 
this  to  the  T.  C.'s  was  the  jovialest.  The  foray- 
ers  had  so  good  a  time,  in  fact,  that  after  mid- 
night adieus  and  they  had  got  almost  to  the  big 
ravine  on  their  star-lit  walk  to  Laurel  Town, 
they  turned  and  came  back  to  sing  under  our 
windows. 

"This  supper  broke  tip  the  society,"  wrote 
Professor  Robinson  in  his  "Reminiscences," 
"the  Turkey  Crusaders  disbanded  and  their 
badges  were  seen  no  more." 


206  EABUER  DAYS  AT 


Men  such  as  Professor  David  Hamilton  Rob- 
inson gave  the  university  conservative  strength 
in  those  days — men  rooted  in  right,  loyal  to  the 
university,  not  lobbying  with  whatever  board 
controlled  its  administration,  not  among  those 
constantly  casting  a  hook  afar  (possibly  a  bit 
conscious  pretensions  had  been  uncovered)  to 
see  what  seemingly  better  float  they  could  pull 
in,  but  standing  by  the  simple,  indeterminate 
conditions  they  had  accepted  with  their  call, 
making  the  university's  interest  their  interest, 
its  democracy  their  democracy,  their  character 
its  character ;  not  egotists,  not  prigs,  not  mental 
light-weights,  but  men  of  full  merit  and  rounded 
development. 

Such  was  the  university's  first  Latinist — hon- 
est, loyal,  sincere,  ever  and  abundantly  radiating 
simple,  luminous  kindness;  the  soul  of  him  re- 
calling a  mellow-ground  meadow,  overspread 
with  sunshine,  supporting  healthful,  pleasant 
airs  and  fruitful  harvests,  of  use  for  everyday 
wont  and  everyday  living. 

It  was  the  fine  habit  of  Professor  Robinson  to 
open  his  classes'  work  of  a  morning  by  telling 
a  story  in  Latin ;  he  meanwhile  striding  up  and 
down  the  lecture-room,  often  measuring  turns  of 


THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   KANSAS  207 

the  tale  by  wheeling  a  pencil  between  right 
thumb  and  forefinger,  or  by  stroking  his  rufous 
beard  with  his  left  hand.  Doubtless  he  looked 
upon  such  beginnings  as  excellent  for  familiariz- 
ing our  ears  with  a  language  not  commonly 
spoken,  and  as  zest-givers,  catching  our  atten- 
tion and  rapidly  inducting  us  into  another  en- 
vironment. His  open,  serene  countenance  must 
still  stand  before  many  eyes ;  his  quiet,  mellow 
voice  still  sound  in  many  ears,  rehearsing  some 
world-important  matter,  or  perhaps  a  local  hap- 
pening, for  instance,  "T.  C.'s  Horribles,"*  or 
"In  Re  T.  C"  Never  a  man  enjoyed  humor 
more. 

"T.  C.'S"  HOBBIBILES.* 

Jam  noctis  media  Jiora.    In  coelo  nubila  spissa 
Stellas  abstulerant.    Vmbrarum  tempus  erat  quo 
Horrenda  ignavis  monstra  apparent.    Pueri  turn 
Parvi  matribus  intus  adhaerent.    Non  gratiorem 
Voctem  fur  unquam  invenit.    Bed  qui  veniunt  post 
Hano  aedem  veteremf    Celebrantne  aliqua  liorrida  sacra 
Mercurio  furum  patronof    Discipulinef 
Non  possunt!    Tutt  in  lectis  omnes  requiescuntl 
Estne  sodalicium  studiosorum  relevans  se 
Magnis  a  curisf    Sed  cur  hue  conveniunt  tarn 
Furtivif    In  manibus  quidnam  est  vel  sub  tegumenthf 
0  pudort    Et  pullos  et  turkey  non  bene  raptost 
Vina  etiam  subrepta  professoris  alicujus 
(Horresco  referens)  e  cella!    Dedecus!    Est  nil 
Tutum  a  furibusf    En  pullos  nunc  faucibus  iltts 
Borbent!  "Nunc  sunt  in  terra,  turn  in  ictu  oculi  non 
Apparebunt  omne  in  aeternum!    Miserot  pullot, 


208  EARLIER  DAYS  AT 

One  morning  Professor  Robinson  met  a  class 
with  account  of  the  making  at  his  home  of  some 
wine.  Possibly  he  detailed  the  process  to  illus- 
trate a  verse  of  Horace,  or  to  show  old  Roman 
usages  and  customs.  Whatever  the  incentive  he 
told  his  story.  There,  you  would  suppose,  the 
pleasure  ended. 

Infelices  0  pueros!    Illi  male  capti 

A  pueris,  sed  hi  capientur  mox  male  (0!  Oil) 

A  Plutone  atro! 

Forsan  lapsis  quinque  diebus,  cum  sapiens  vir 

Omnes  hos  juvenes  ad  cenam  magniflcenter 

Invitavit.     Tempore  sane  adsunt.     Bene  laeti 

Judex  accipiunt  et  filia  pulchra  sodales 

Hos  furtivos.    Ad  mensam  veniunt.    Juvenes  cur 

Tarn  agitanturf    Quid  portentum  conspiciunt  nunet 

Protrudunt  oculi  quasi  ranarum!    Nihil  est  in 

Mensa  praeter  turkeys!     Unus  quoque  catino! 

Solum  hoc,  praeterea  nil! 

IN  BE  T.  c. 

Quatuor  youths  ad  suburbs  venunt, 
Quatuor  lads  their  cursus  tenunt, 

Versus  granger's  domum. 
Nunquam  stop  to  rest  their  pedes, 
Nunquam  find  sequestered  sedes, 

Sub  the  shades  arborum. 

Saepe  look  in  partis  omnis, 

Fearing  quidam,  waked  from  somnis, 

Eos  scquiturus. 

Gallus  from  some  far  off  tectum, 
Tuba  sounds  with  great  effectum, 

Putit  day  futurus. 


THE   UNIVEBSITY   OF   KANSAS  209 

Presumptions  based  on  general  experience 
always  proved  inadequate  when  T.  C.s  were  by. 
The  Professor's  Latin  formulae  worked  into  fer- 
menting minds,,  and  roused  memories  in  several 
members  of  that  disbanded  fraternity.  Now,  and 
now  only,  they  forgot  the  exhortation  to  right 
living  with  which  the  Judge  had  prefaced  the 
last  T.  C.  supper. 

"Their  old  ardor  returned,"  wrote  Professor 
Robinson,  "and  they  fairly  burned  to  get  hold 
of  those  wine  bottles.  It  would  be  the  best  joke 
of  their  lives. 

"A  few  evenings  after  two  of  them  called  at 
the  professor's  house,  they  seemed  in  especially 
happy  mood,  telling  stories,  joking  and  laughing 


Mox  they  reach  a  procul  valley, 
Round  a  fallen  truncus  rally, 

y«6e«  expecterunt. 
Turn  with  cordes  faintly  beating, 
Nunc  advancing,  nunc  retreating, 

Castris  repererunt. 

Now  ad  portum  Crito  venit, 
Captures  hostem,  duos  tenet, 

Whispers  "cave  canem." 
Wild  the  pugna,  charge  they  fccunt, 
Wilder  tamen  viam  makunt, 

Homeward  primam  lucem. 


210  EABJUEB   DAYS  AT 

almost  immoderately.  Finally  one  of  them,  pro- 
ducing some  music,  offered  to  play  it.  With  a 
big  crash  he  began.  And  such  playing !  He  ran, 
and  galloped,  and  cantered,  and  jumped  up  and 
down  the  keyboard  until  the  old  house  fairly 
rattled  from  chimney-top  to  cellar — especially 
the  cellar.  Then  college  songs  were  roared  with 
equal  force  and  energy.  This  went  on  an  hour 
or  two,  when  the  guests  withdrew,  with  many 
expressions  of  pleasure  at  the  delightful  evening 
they  had  passed. 

"The  professor  and  his  wife  were  a  little  sur- 
prised at  the  call  of  these  young  men,  who  had 
never  called  before,  and  especially  at  their 
rather  long  stay  and  boistrous  conduct.  Still 
they  were  glad  to  receive  the  visit,  and  retired 
greatly  pleased  to  think  that  these  T.  C.'s,  lately 
so  wild,  were  now  disposed  to  give  up  their  dis- 
reputable practices  and  cultivate  the  graces  and 
amenities. 

"In  the  morning,  on  opening  the  house,  many 
evidences  of  burglary  were  plainly  visible — in 
fact,  too  plainly  visible.  The  hoe  and  axe  and 
pieces  of  candle  were  left  near  the  cellar-window 
in  plain  sight,  as  if  courting  investigation.  It 
was  soon  found  that  the  cellar  had  been  entered, 
the  wine  taken,  and  a  note  left  in  its  place. 

"The  professor,  for  obvious  reasons,  never 


THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   KANSAS  211 

mentioned  his  loss,  but  the  boys  thought  it  too 
good  a  joke  to  keep."* 

Pranks  such  as  these  colored  and  individual- 
ized student-days  at  Laurel  Town  more  than 
forty  years  ago.  Their  childlikeness  witnesses 
reaction  of  youthful  spirits  from  strain,  relief- 
seeking  in  play — reversions  to  our  race's 
younger  years  when  a  Bob  Rtoy's  rule  sufficed, 

"the  simple  plan 

That  they  should  take  who  have  the  power 
And  they  should  keep  who  can ;" 

unconscious  returns,  we  say,  to  ancestral  action 
when  our  people's  moral  nature  had  not  evolved 
to  the  social  heights  of  forming  their  govern- 
ment and  fitting  their  life  to  laws  of  their  own 
making. 

And  the  same  ebullience — that  had  stolen  the 
turkeys  and  industriously  read  Plato,  Tacitus, 
Shakespeare  and  Goethe ;  that  had  pilfered  the 
Latin  professor's  wine  and  figured  the  orbit  of 
remote  planets — the  same  effervescing  strength 
prompted  unwearied  muscles,  one  Hallow'en  in 

*This  chorus  from  "University  Legends"  gives  the  gist 
of  the  note.  Professor  Robinson  uphold  prohibition  then 
coming  to  the  fore  in  Kansas  politics : 

"Oh,  the  doleful,  doleful  ditty, 

If  a  man  should  break  his  pledge! 

So  well  drink  up  all  your  wine,  and 
Save  you  from  temptation's  edge." 


212  EARLIEB  DAYS  AT 

the  eighteen-seventies,  to  keep  the  night  when, 
old  lore  avers,  wizzard  and  witch  in  "  hellish 
legion  sally." 

Unseasonable  chill,  housing  and  leading  folks 
to  hug  their  fires,  hung  over  Laurel  Town  all 
that  afternoon.  Finally  dark  grey  clouds  fell 
low,  and  shut  in  the  evening  with  a  driving  rain. 
Just  the  weather  for  a  self-sacrificing  brother- 
hood bent  on  protecting  their  townsmen  from 
seditious  spirits ! 

The  circling  year  had  brought  a  Druidic  fes- 
tival, majestic  with  age,  they  told  themselves. 
Laurel  Town  customs  would  not  permit  com- 
munity-fires to  the  Sun-god,  time-honored  tokens 
of  gratitude  for  harvest-bounties.  Yet  at  least 
public-minded  students  might  endeavor  to  ward 
off  sin-stained  ghosts  who  would  wander  abroad, 
said  legend,  and  war  that  night  in  battalions. 

"Bells,"  the  boys  reasoned,  "have  through 
thousands  of  years  had  the  fame  of  inspiring 
terror  in  hobgoblins  such  as  will  ride  each  sep- 
arate gale;  for  generations  their  clamor  has 
been  reported  a  prophylactic  and  saver  of 
mortals  from  that  evil  eye  which  will  peer  from 
every  raindrop." 

Defying  hostile  weather,  their  first  duty  was 
mastery  of  the  town's  bells.  They  must  climb 
several  towers.  Unmeasured  self-immolation 


THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   KANSAS  213 

alone  could  save  the  little  city  from  legions  of 
limbo,  loose  that  one  night  of  all  the  year. 

No  height  so  readily  met  their  advances  as  the 
square  tower  of  the  old  Unitarian  church.  Its 
rough-hewn  stone  afforded  foothold  and  the 
roof -ridge  easy  entrance.  A  benedictive  messen- 
ger of  remarkable  silver  tones  hung  in  its  belfry. 
To  this  the  young  devotees  made  their  way,  and 
after  fastening  cords  to  the  bell's  tongue  they 
tossed  ropes  to  their  aiders  and  abettors  below. 

•The  wind  blew  as  'twad  blawn  its  last; 
The  rattling  show'rs  rose  on  the  blast.  .  .  . 
That  night,  a  child  might  understand, 
The  de'il  had  business  on  his  hand;" 

but  the  boys  descended,  and  retired  to  recesses 
of  shrubbery  across  the  street. 

From  this  vantage  they  pulled  the  bell's  clap- 
per against  its  bronze  cup  till  every  weary 
townsman  within  hearing  of  it,  cried,  "Heaven 
f  oref  end !  How  can  Satan  cast  out  Satan !" 

A  wild  night,  friends. 

Enthusiasm  seized,  and  woke  to  daring,  slen- 
der, shrinking  shreds  of  youths.  For  instance, 
Frank  MacLennan  became  so  obsessed  with  the 
clangor  that  he  hastened  to  pull  the  house-bell 
of  a  ledger-studying,  law-abiding  hardware  mer- 
chant he  had  never  seen. 

Answering  the   door-bell's  ring  a  woman's 


214  EARLIEB   DAYS  AT 

gentle  voice  sounded  from  a  second-story  win- 
dow; "What  is  wanted?" 

Frank,  standing  on  the  porch  of  the  house,  ex- 
plained that  he  had  come  on  business  which  re- 
quired a  personal  answer.  Shortly  the  front 
door  opened  and  an  anxious  voice  invited  hftn 
to  go  up  stairs. 

The  young  derring-doer  ascended  and  boldly 
entered  the  room  of  the  merchant.  Advancing 
a  few  steps  toward  the  bed,  he  said  in  unshrink- 
ing accents  that  he  had  to  have  the  immediate 
advice  of  a  specialist;  "I  want,"  he  continued, 
speaking  slowly  and  clearly,  "to  know  the  price 
of  thermometers." 

The  hardware  man  threw  back  the  covers  and 
sprang  from  his  bed.  A  dim,  reflected  light 
showed  a  kicking  foot  speeding  through  the  air. 
But  the  enquirer  had  anticipated  the  attack.  His 
spare  body  was  already  half  way  down  the 
stairs,  and  the  only  unimpeded  thing  that 
reached  him  was  the  merchant's  roar,  and  reiter- 
ate call,  for  that  East  Indian  coin  of  infinitesimal 
value  known  as  a  dam. 

Yet  one  more  sortie  these  youthful  dynamos 
made,  when  a  commencement  week  of  the  eigh- 
teen-seventies  came  to  hand. 

A  few  months  before,  the  Chancellor  and 
Prex,  General  John  Fraser,  had  married  a  young 


THE    UNIVERSITY   OF   KANSAS  215 

lady  of  Laurel  Town,  whose  strength  of  charac- 
ter no  wise  abated  from  Puritan  forebears,  more 
than  one  of  whom  became  president  of  Harvard 
College.  In  lesser  qualities  than  character,  in  a 
captivating  personality,  and  in  graceful  figure, 
smiling  face,  glancing  grey  eyes  and  fluffy 
brown  curls,  Mrs.  Fraser  was  also  gifted. 

Commencement  neared,  we  say.  Therefore 
through  Fraser  Hall's  open  doors  poured  vis- 
itors who  had  come  to  Laurel  Town  to  witness 
the  festival  and  were  delighting  themselves  with 
such  sights  as  Professor  Snow's  famous  fossils. 
Their  will  to  see  everything  at  hand  led  them 
even  to  glance  at  a  human  skeleton  hung  in  the 
physiology  lecture-room.  Its  jointed  bones  had 
served  an  instructor  for  illustration  during  the 
last  academic  year,  and  now,  locked  in  glass 
closet,  awaited  a  next  call  to  duty. 

Among  other  sight-seers  three  students  went 
sauntering  from  room  to  room.  Pausing  here 
for  some  interest,  examining  another  there,  they 
came  at  last  to  the  cupboard  of  the  skeleton.  At 
once  they  grouped  close,  as  if  in  discussion,  and 
while  one  fitted  keys  and  tested  the  lock,  the 
other  two  shielded  his  movements.  An  on-looker 
might  have  thought  they  were  tracing  the  line 
of  tibia,  or  fibula,  through  the  glazed  door. 

"Here's  a  key  that  will  unlock  it." 


216  EARLIER   DAYS  AT 

"Tie  it  with  the  one  that  opens  the  lecture- 
room  door." 

"Put  it  in  your  back  pocket." 

"Twelve  o'clock  Monday  night,  then." 

"By  the  box-elder.' 

"Don't  forget  the  card-board." 

Two  nights  later  three  students,  clad  in  odd 
clothes,  raised  a  window  in  the  basement  of 
Fraser  Hall.  No  noise  awoke  the  janitor. 

They  walked  softly  up  stairs,  unlocked  the 
doors,  unhooked  the  skeleton,  and  clasping  it 
close  in  arms,  crept  still  higher  up  the  building. 
A  westering  moon  lighted  their  way  till  they 
reached  the  loft. 

Then  came  gruesome  work — with  the  stub  of 
a  candle,  and  peering  into  stuffy  darkness  which 
had  no  end. 

"Whose  skeleton  was  this,  anyway?"  asked 
one  as  they  groped  forward  hugging  the  bones. 

"What  did  it  do  while  it  wore  flesh  on  earth?" 
queried  the  second,  "What  name  did  it  answer 
to?" 

"How  did  it  come  to  its  business  of  educat- 
ing sophomores  in  the  articulation  of  their 
bodies  instead  of  lying  decently  and  comfortably 
in  the  ground?"  continued  the  first.  "Did  its 
owner  forfeit  his  life  for  some  crime  ?" 

"Gee  whizz !  Let's  get  out  of  this !" 


THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   KANSAS  217 

"You  growling !  Huh ;  You  got  us  into  it." 

Cheek  by  jowl  with  a  skeleton  once  a  man's, 
creeping  over  loose  boards  of  a  loft  in  semi- 
darkness,  feeling  forward  toward  a  broad  cir- 
cular opening  in  the  middle  of  the  floor — all  this 
they  had  not  put  in  their  programme. 

''Here's  the  rim  of  the  hole." 

They  tied  a  rope  to  the  hook  fastened  in  the 
skull.  To  the  bones  of  the  feet  they  hung  a  card 
about  eighteen  inches  square  and  stretched  the 
skeleton  along  the  curved  edge. 

Then  they  turned  and  scuttled  to  the  basement 
window  through  which  they  had  entered. 

A  soft,  teeming  night  of  early  summer  lay 
on  hill  and  low  lands.  Winds  forerunning  a 
June  dawn  blew  over  the  campus.  In  the  east 
shone  the  morning  star. 

But  freshening  day,  instead  of  cooling, 
strengthened  their  fever,  and  before  separating 
they  drew  lots  to  determine  who  should  carry 
their  labor  to  its  end. 

Commencement  arrived. 

The  all-seeing  sun  did  not  look  upon  a  happier 
people.  Work  of  a  hard  year  now  quite  done, 
and  hours  full  of  the  buoyant  joy  that  com- 
mencement alone  knows — when  aged,  academic 
sobriety  forgets  its  anchylosis  and  units  with 
supple,  jocund  youth.  Chancellor  himself  viv- 


218  EABUEB  DAYS  AT 

idly  happy.  The  grace  which  brightens  women 
of  university  towns  during  commencement 
sitting  signally  upon  the  Chancellor's  wife. 

So  passed  the  day.  Night  fell.  A  band  of 
the  United  States  Army  still  discoursed  music 
in  the  crowded  aula;  when  through  the  opening 
in  the  ceiling  that  awaited  a  central  chandelier, 
the  physiology-lecturer's  skeleton  came  circling 
down  to  the  rhythm  of  a  Strauss  waltz — swing- 
ing slowly  in  broad  rounds  over  the  assembled 
people.  A  card  dangling  from  its  heels  bore 
the  legend  PREX. 

Few  saw  the  waltzing  death's  head  at  first, 
and  those  who  did  met  it  in  amazed  silence. 
Then,  when  they  had  pointed  it  out  to  others, 
a  murmur  of  disapproval  rose.  Yet,  finally, 
sense  of  the  inconsequence  of  the  conceit  stole 
over  the  throng,  and  a  few  gravely  smiled. 

Trying  moments,  these,  to  the  gallant  gen- 
eral !  At  the  end  of  so  perfect  a  day !  And  so 
successful  a  year!  Yet  his  canny  Scottish  wit 
stood  steadfast,  and  when  Mrs.  Fraser,  with 
the  confiding  air  of  faculty-wives,  smilingly 
asked;  "What  does  Prex  mean?" — without  a 
moment's  hesitation  the  Chancellor  answered; 
"  Faculty." 

Thoughtless  sport!  Bough-house  tomfoolery; 
but  cleanhearted.  The  hatchers  of  the  joke  ad- 


THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   KANSAS  219 

mired  the  keeper  of  the  seal.  They  had  merely 
misdirected  indomitable  high  spirits,  Anglo- 
Saxon  seeking  for  adventure — the  racial  temper 
that  urged  to  the  ships  of  Humphrey  Gilbert,  the 
Hawkinses  and  Francis  Drake,  laughter-loving, 
imagination-driven  youths  of  three  hundred  and 
fifty  years  ago ;  a  racial  temper  that,  in  our  own 
years  of  1917  and  1918,  filled  countless  trans- 
ports to  France  with  American  boys  whose 
record  negatives  the  chart  of  every  psycholo- 
gist ;  imperturbably  jovial,  rivaling  one  another 
in  making  light  of  danger,  independently  con- 
structive and  recklessly  courageous  in  rushing 
to  daring  action. 

V 

Still,  not  all  were  giants  in  those  eighteen- 
seventies.  When  our  marvellous  professor  of 
English  literature  listened  to  a  call  to  Philadel- 
phia, the  administrative  board  chose  to  his  place 
a  man  graduated  from  a  college  near  the  centre 
of  Massachusetts;  an  oxlike  creature  of  solid, 
well-knit,  somewhat  coram-nobis  figure,  with 
smiling  eyes  packed  in  adipose  tissue  and  a 
ruddy  beaming  countenance  whose  shine  no 
classroom  disaster  ever  quenched. 

Some  inexplicable  fate,  perhaps  a  mother,  or 
spinster  aunt,  nursing  ambitions  for  him,  had 


220  EABLIER  DAYS  AT 

projected  him  into  the  republic  of  books  and 
learning,  when  nature  plainly  made  him  for  a 
life  of  muscular  activity.  His  peculiarity  was 
that  he  had  never  been  able  to  learn. 

In  his  senior  class  this  man  had  a  parcel  of 
youngsters  more  or  less  Wertherian — Goethe's 
influence,  his  manysidedness  and  majestic  per- 
sonality at  that  hour  and  for  us  were  very  real 
— youngsters  again  not  merely  gifted  with  that 
amazing  self-confidence  which  is  a  guardian 
daemon  of  the  young,  but  conscious  of  mental 
grasp  by  such  little  events  as  that  at  a  com- 
mencement dinner  where  a  state  official  declared 
the  word  education  from  the  Latin  e;  to  lead, 
and  duco;  forth. 

When  we  took  up '  *  Paradise  Lost,"  the  unique 
equipment  of  our  new  instructor  first  declared 
itself,  he  telling  us  in  a  sort  of  forehanded  de- 
fense, a  casting-up  of  breast-works  or  trench 
digging  before  an  enemy,  as  it  were,  that  he 
"  believed  the  Garden  of  Eden  story,  and  would 
prefer  to  be  made  of  clay  to  descent  from  Plato's 
beatified  oyster."  In  wordless  courtesy  we 
asked  no  questions  about  Plato's  oyster. 

Then,  the  better  to  impress  his  position  upon 
our  understanding,  he  added;  "I  believe  I  be- 
lieve in  the  actual  existence  of  Adam,  Eve,  the 
serpent  and  its  wickedness  in  the  Garden  of 


THE   UNIVERSITY  OP   KANSAS  221 

Eden,  five  thousand  years  ago,  and  truthfully 
depicted  by  Milton."* 

Any  radicalism  lurking  in  our  midst  could  not 
misinterpret  this  endeavor  to  forestall  theories 
of  evolution  we  might  be  pleased  to  advance,  or 
propositions  that  we  were  dealing  with  poetic 
myths  and  Adam  might  signify  tribal  distinc- 
tion. 

People  of  to-day  who  see  principles  of  evolu- 
tion accepted  by  and  a  strong  pillar  of  ortho- 
doxy, can  not,  I  repeat,  realize  the  fervor  of 
those  taking  sides  in  those  earlier  days  for  and 
against  the  new  evangel — then  kept  constantly 
before  the  world,  as  I  have  said  on  page  thirty 
foregoing,  by  publications  of  Darwin,  Wallace, 
Huxley,  Tyndall  and  others. 

One  day,  in  our  analyses  of  "Paradise  Lost," 
one  of  us  suggested  that  the  poem  had  as  its 
basis  a  purely  Manichean  conception.  "Maniche- 
an"  proved  a  corker.  When,  however,  our  guide 
found  what  the  word  connoted,  he  rejected  the 
offer. 

Another  time,  upon  our  going  from  Milton's 
word-description  of  deity  to  painting  and 
speaking  of  the  great  Italian,  he  asked  if  Michel- 
angelo had  really  painted  deity. 

•These  quotations  were  written  down  with  pencil  at  the 
time. 


222  EARLIER  DAYS  AT 

"I  would  not  paint  a  picture  of  God,"  he  ex- 
claimed with  a  shudder,  "I  would  be  deterred 
by  a  sense  of  the  wickedness  of  it." 

Every  class-hour  brought  its  astonishment. 
One  day  our  instructor  spoke  of  Grote,  the  his- 
torian of  Greece,  and  identified  him  with 
Grotius. 

'  *  '  Hugo  Grotius,  the  Dutch  publicist,  lived  in 
the  seventeenth  century,'  put  in  one  of  our 
number,  'and  George  Grote  in  London  in  the 
nineteenth/  " 

11  'Why,'  ejaculated  our  poor  pedant;  'I 
thought  Grotius  was  the  Latin  form  of  bis 
name !'  Yes — hum,  well,  I'll  look  it  up." 

Another  chronology  of  his  claimed  that  Con- 
fucius studied  Aristotle. 

Individual  treatments  of  Milton's  religiosity 
and  poetic  genius  have  startled  students  else- 
where— for  instance  in  Cambridge,  Massachu- 
setts. But  we  in  Kansas  were  trail-making, 
shaded  by  a  university  not  two  hundred  and 
fifty,  in  fact  not  ten,  years  old,  with  nothing  in 
our  hands  save  a  few  books ;  but  in  our  heads 
intellectual  vigor  and  will  to  find  the  best 
thought  and  written  about  subjects  we  under- 
took. 

Still,  from  our  study  of  the  sonorous  Puritan 
we  may  have  got  as  much  as  students  sitting  in 


THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   KANSAS  223 

sight  of  John  Harvard's  statue  and  listening 
to  a  lecture,  a  part  of  which,*  marked  by  a  humor 
all  its  own,  follows — the  lecturer  sitting  on  a 
low  table,  one  knee  curving  over  its  corner,  his 
right  hand  swinging  a  slender  steel  chain  which 
described  a  circle  at  its  end  with  a  bunch  of  keys, 
and  winding  the  chain  over  forefinger,  first  to 
right  and  then  to  the  left : — 

"Personally  I  do  not  like  Spenser,  and  Mil- 
ton is  to  me  excessively  unpleasant.  Milton  is 
trying  to  be  a  Puritan  and  an  artist  at  the  same 
time,  and  the  two  things  do  not,  and  can  not, 
coincide — a  conscious  moral  purpose  minus  any 
effort  for  artistic  effect. 

' '  To  my  thinking '  Comus'  isn't  in  it  with  '  The 
Faithful  Shepherdess.'  A  fellow  like  Milton 
that  has  bored  me  with  'Paradise  Lost,'  and 
'Samson  Agonistes,'  I  have  absolutely  no  use 
for.  When  I  read  Milton,  as  I  have  to,  I  read 
him  for  study,  not  for  enjoyment.  I  feel  that 
Milton  is  rhetoric,  just  as  Spencer  is  rhetoric. 
Take  'L' Allegro,'  'Comus,'  etc.;  these  are  rhet- 
oric, jolly  good  rhetoric  some  parts  of  them. 
I  should  guess  that  'Lycidas,'  and  some  few  of 
Milton's  sonnets,  were  some  of  the  most  spon- 
taneous things  he  ever  did.  He  certainly  wasn't 
spontaneous  in  'Samson  Agonistes,'  although 

*Taken  down  in  short'hand. 


224 

he  spoke  out  with  a  certain  resonant  bang.  No 
one  can  be  spontaneous  who  constructs  a  Greek 
tragedy  on  the  plan  of  a  Hebrew  story." 


VI 

Those  earlier,  less  organized  days  in  Kansas, 
things  material  were  more  meager  than  now. 
Memories  of  the  Civil  War,  its  chastening  sor- 
rows, still  fresh,  thankfulness  for  renunciations, 
for  untellable  sacrifices  that  had  seemingly 
made  our  institutions  permanent,  warmed  every 
heart. 

The  people  of  the  state  who  had  fought  were, 
in  the  large,  knit  in  blood  and  gifted  with  An- 
glo-Saxon traditions  and  the  spirit  that  formed 
our  government  and  our  English  speech.  A 
notable  percentage  of  Celts  had  come,  for  the 
wave  of  Irish  immigration  had  been  rolling  over 
the  Atlantic  close  to  a  generation.  And  with 
the  Celts'  racial  adaptability  and  cleverness, 
they  were  merging,  though  keeping  the  sparkle 
of  Celtic  blood,  with  Anglo-Saxon  pioneers. 

In  those  days,  also,  people  of  the  German  cur- 
rent sought  the  state's  rich  soil — a  few  owing 
to  the  German  unrest  of  the  eighteen-f orties ; 
other  thrifty,  staid  soil-tillers  from  Prussia, 


THE    UNIVERSITY   OF    KANSAS  225 

Hanover,  Bavaria,  many  smaller  states;  and 
Austria,  and  Switzerland.  A  share  of  Scan- 
dinavians, too. 

Also  there  drifted  in  a  quota  of  Jews,  who 
seemingly  united  themselves  with  the  general 
life;  at  least  you  saw  and  heard  little  of  the 
idiosyncrasies  which  have  made  that  people 
"boarders"  in  whatever  country  they  have 
wandered  to  and  settled  in  numbers. 

Then,  again  the  commonwealth  had  served  as 
asylum  for  fugitive  negroes  before  and  during 
the  war ;  and  now  men,  women  and  children  fled 
to  its  bounties  from  hardships  they  deemed  un- 
bearable ;  one  winter  coming  in  carloads  and  des- 
titute of  every  necessity. 

The  old,  Free-State  folks'  helpfulness,  even  to 
giving  of  self  still  remained  a  spiritual  treasure 
in  Laurel  Town,  and  housewives  quick  with  pity 
for  whomsoever  they  thought  wronged,  hastened 
to  gather  raiment  for  shivering  bodies  and  to 
prepare  food  for  empty  stomachs. 

In  years  succeeding  the  Civil  War,  we  say, 
fame  of  the  opulent  and  idealistic  soil  of  Kan- 
sas— the  state's  fight  for  freedom,  the  state's 
abounding  lands — circled  the  earth  and  brought 
many  from  afar.  Bohemians  in  colonies.  Men- 
nonites  from  Russia,  too,  men  of  rough,  austere 
faces,  and  stalwart  forms  clad  in  sheepskin  coats 


226  EARLIER   DAYS  AT 

and  high  boots;  women,  with  kerchiefs  and 
shawls  and  countenances  of  meekness  and  resig- 
nation, weariedly  tending  round-eyed,  docile 
children. 

They  all  sought  liberty.  Democracy  is  posi- 
tive, it  points  out  how  alike  men  are.  Aristoc- 
racy, they  had  learned  through  suffering,  is 
negative,  it  emphasizes  men's  difference.  Com- 
ing from  Europe  because  of  spiritual  revolt 
against  conditions  thrust  upon  them  there,  they 
brought  a  soreness  that  had  struck  to  their  very 
marrow  and  become  chronic.  But  in  pursuit  of 
working  into  concrete  life  a  principle  to  which 
they  had  given  their  hearts,  they  brought  also 
the  indescribably  splendid  spirit  of  sacrifice  for 
an  idea — a  gift  given  comparatively  few  coming 
to  our  shores  the  last  half  century. 

If  some  of  these  immigrants,  unable  to  com- 
prehend what  we  Americans  had  forged  in  the 
fire  of  battle  before  they  came — if  they  had  no 
spiritual  insight  into  what  we  meant  to  do  with 
our  possessions;  if  they  became  Americans  in 
name  only ;  if  they  had  none  of  our  great  tradi- 
tions, not  a  spark  of  that  intellectual  enlighten- 
ment and  Anglo-Saxon  constructive  imagination 
that  set  up  and  maintained  our  Government; 
if  they  had  no  sense  of  the  spirit  that  settled 
over  our  people  after  the  sacrifices  of  the  Civil 


THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   KANSAS  227 

"War — if,  not  understanding  modernity,  not  gen- 
erative of  ideas  and  lacking  present-day  out- 
look; if  for  a  generation  or  two  not  compre- 
hending our  institutions — many  of  these  immi- 
grants had  at  least  that  marvellous  spur,  single- 
ness of  heart,  also  courage  and  persistence,  and 
they  made  good  in  many  ways  and  weights ;  they 
caught  and  carried  on  devotion  to  exalted  ideals 
of  the  earlier  settlers. 

So  it  happened  that  when  the  Anglo-Saxon 
state-builders  who  had  forged  forward  into  the 
wilds  where  now  stands  Kansas,  and  had  given 
the  strength  of  their  bodies  to  making  the  nature 
they  found  a  shelter  and  support  for  later  peo- 
ple— when  the  fiery  chariot  of  their  spirit,  a 
"  chariot  of  fire  and  horses  of  fire,"  bore  these 
Elijahs  heavenward,  many  differing  folks,  carry- 
ing many  different  bloods  and  traditions,  took 
up  their  fallen  mantles. 

Many  differing  ideas  inflooding  must  bear 
vast  meaning  to  a  state's  institutions.  And  to 
its  university  founded  by  Anglo-Saxon  pioneers 
on  Anglo-Saxon  Puritan  ideals ;  not  within  the 
first  generation,  may  be,  but  when  the  inflood- 
ers*  children's  children  shall  discover  treasures 
offered  within  its  walls. 

For  a  decade  after  the  Civil  War  race-senti- 
ment resurgent  from  battle-fields — American 


228  EARLIER  DAYS  AT 

sentiment — had  force  in  studies  at  Laurel  Town. 
Students  inclined  to  seek  the  serenities  of  an- 
cient thought,  to  enlarge  the  present  by  going 
to  the  past  and  re-living  the  life  of  mankind; 
in  the  faith  that  the  truest  method  of  gaining 
ideas  and  sentiments  worthy  of  assimilation 
lay  in  analyses  of  old  Greek  and  Latin  writers. 
"It  is  in  that  golden  stain  of  time" — Buskin 
voiced  a  conviction  of  theirs  that  they  should 
not  imprison  themselves  in  their  own  age — 
"that  we  are  to  look  for  the  real  light,  and 
colour  and  preciousness."  And  Shelley,  "Our 
laws,  our  literature,  our  religion,  our  arts,  have 
their  roots  in  Greece."* 

The  university,  poor  in  all  but  hopes  and 
ambitions,  met  their  needs.  At  its  beginning 
somewhat  after  the  expanse,  mental  temper  and 
discipline  of  a  college  of  the  Atlantic  slope,  it 
gradually  developed  into  a  group  of  schools. 
One  subject  after  another  pushed  open  its  doors, 

These  reasonings  of  ours  foreran  Sir  Henry  Maine's 
famous  definition  which  restated  Shelley's;  and  Dr.  Osier's 
cogent  particularizing  just  now  published: 

"One  of  the  marvels,  so  commonplace  that  it  has  ceased 
to  be  marvelous,  is  the  deep  rooting  of  our  civilization  in 
the  soil  of  Greece  and  Rome — much  of  our  dogmatic  religion, 
practically  all  the  philosophies,  the  models  of  our  literature, 
the  ideals  of  our  democratic  freedom,  the  fine  and  the  tech- 
nical arts,  the  fundamentals  of  science  and  the  basis  of  our 
law.  The  Humanities  bring  the  student  into  contact  with 
the  master  minds  who  gave  us  these  things." 


THE   UNIVERSITY  OF   KANSAS  229 

bearing  claim  for  settled,  benefactive  residence 
on  the  ground  that  learning  as  a  whole,  and  the 
amelioration  of  human  beings  in  all  life's  rela- 
tions, should  be  a  democratic  university's  field, 
not  alone,  as  back  in  the  centuries  and  in  col- 
leges less  intimate  with  the  people,  ancient 
classics  and  theologies,  with  mathematics,  and 
possibly  law,  as  ancillaries. 

This  broad  plea  accorded  with  the  ideals  of 
the  university's  founders.  They  had  doubtless 
wanted  to  make  impossible  overbearing  of  those 
literary  and  linguistic  studies  that  degenerate 
into  weak  dilettantism  and  a  self-complacent 
phrase-making  which  is  the  other  half  of  steril- 
ity of  thought.  Even  in  the  days  when  they 
wrought  they  heard  criticisms  of  a  salt-water 
college;  "  No  thing  to  stimulate  or  develop  the 
perceptions,  and  everything  to  suppress  instinct 
and  enthusiasm:  one  learned  neither  to  see  nor 
to  feel."  Warping  and  drying  and  then  wrap- 
ping the  intellect  in  spices,  preserving  merely  a 
mummified  semblance,  the  founders  meant 
definitely  to  avoid. 

Recognition  not  only  of  the  whole  field  of 
human  knowledge,  but  also  practical  applica- 
tions of  that  knowledge  as  an  ideal  of  university 
teachings,  brought  tremendous  changes.  It  set 
aside  old  Greek  and  Latin  studies  aa  essentials 


230  EABUEB  DAYS  AT 

for  a  student.  That,  in  one  way,  made  the  uni- 
versity more  democratic;  it  meant  the  triumph 
of  the  utilitarian  spirit;  so  far  as  it  had  then 
revealed  itself.  In  another  way  the  new  order 
effected  less  democracy,  for  no  longer  could  the 
institution  train  its  students  to  the  same  uni- 
versal standards,  give  to  all  the  same  way  of 
looking  at  life,  the  same  broad,  solid  foundation 
of  companionship. 

The  new  precept  manifested,  too,  a  further 
negative — that  students  might  fail  to  gain  his- 
torical perspective,  might  fail  to  acquire  substi- 
tute for  the  stably  grounded  regard  and  reflec- 
tive knowledge  of  human  institutions  that  the 
old  classics,  rightly  taught,  to  those  fitted  for 
their  teachings,  instill — a  vision  essential  to 
peoples  of  a  democracy,  for  what  futurists  with- 
out wisdom  of  the  past  build  is  a  structure  on 
sand. 

The  brave,  old  idea  conceived  in  our  English 
word  learning,  the  calling  to  ourselves  as  chief  - 
est  study  man,  and  man's  life  in  the  centuries, 
thus  anaemically  fading,  students  would  come 
to  differ  from  those  of  earlier  years.  Many  a 
one  had  suffered  stern,  hard  necessity — off- 
spring, perhaps,  of  the  folk  coming  to  our 
country  after  the  Civil  War,  not  of  English 
speech,  not  of  Anglo-Saxon  blood,  often  filing 


THE   UNIVERSITY   OP   KANSAS  231 

their  claim  for  land  and  settling  to  wrest  their 
livelihood  from  the  soil ;  a  student  who  had  been 
like  a  calf  between  two  pails  of  milk,  legends 
and  traditions  of  his  parents,  traditions  and 
legend  of  the  people  who  had  made  this  country 
desirable  for  his  family  to  come  to  and  stay  by. 

He  might  seem  incapable  of  reverence  for  the 
mighty  feats  of  our  earlier  generations,  might 
rarely  soften  into  gratitude  for  remembered 
travails  of  institutions  which  protected  and  sup- 
ported him,  of  even  the  very  language  he  spoke. 
"Forgetting  those  things  which  are  behind,  and 
reaching  forth  unto  those  things  which  are  be- 
fore," in  this  like  the  fiery  practician  we  call 
Saint  Paul,  he  might  appear  to  think  the  earth 
and  mankind  did  not  exist  before  his  advent, 
that  was  not  his  business,  and  to  have  little  in- 
terest whether  they  went  on  after  his  exit. 

At  the  university  numbers  increased  of  men 
and  women  eager  for  utilitarian  studies 
merely;  seeking  to  gain  money-making  knowl- 
edge, "useful  information"  solely;  to  learn 
only  what  would  help  them  to  speedy,  easier- 
winning  of  practical  things  of  life.  Thought  of 
fundamental  brain-work  in  company  of  the 
forgers  of  the  humanities,  study  for  disciplin- 
ary and  aesthetic  values  to  lift  high  intelligence 
to  yet  greater  heights,  could  seldom  enter  the 


232  EAELIEB  DAYS  AT 

estimate  of  such  matriculates ;  not  because  they 
lacked  native  ability,  native  insight,  but  because 
of  the  narrowness  to  which  their  lives  had  been 
constrained,  because  of  the  impatience  and  im- 
petuosity of  youth — utilitarian  needs  having 
controlled  their  destinies,  we  say,  withholding 
knowledge  of  and  taste  for  the  refinements  of 
the  humane  order,  and  furnishing  merely  the 
positive,  scientific,  mathematical. 

Manifestly  this  zeal  for  the  practical  would 
give  students  a  sobriety,  a  certain  staidness, 
would  hinder  reversion  to  the  broad  youth-pro- 
longing stand  of  our  Anglo-Saxon  race,  its  shy, 
rollicking  humor — that?  abundance  and  splendor 
of  imagination  which  Sir  Walter  Ealeigh  em- 
bodied when  he  said  he  "shot  at  another  mark 
than  present  profit."  A  young  academic  who 
had  already  gained  knowledge  of  competitive 
business  would  naturally  carry  less  effervescing 
spirits  than  the  earlier  students* 


VII. 

Years  were  going  on  and  these  students' 
world  growing  more  competitive.  Over  a  soil 
that  had,  until  a  generation  before,  known  only 
the  monopolies  of  Indian  hunters  and  the  herd- 


THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   KANSAS 

ing  of  bison,  pioneers  were  learning  the  secret 
of  co-operation.  The  more  aggressive  Farmers' 
Alliance  succeeded  Grangerism.  Prosperity 
was  enlisting  an  army.  Materialism  setting  aside 
spiritual  estimates.  Altruisms  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  state-makers  retiring  in  shamefacedness. 
Sympathy  with  them  becoming  void.  Of  those 
two  race  instincts,  idealism  and  utilitarianism, 
the  second  gaming  headway — leading  to  the  say- 
ing; "The  trouble  with  the  Yankee  is  he  rubs 
badly  at  the  juncture  of  soul  and  body." 

Then,  suddenly,  a  bursting  of  booms.  Corn 
at  ten  cents,  or  its  use  as  a  fuel.  The  birth,  in 
1890,  and  on  Kansas  soil,  of  the  People's  Party 
through  the  cry  of  a  gaunt,  underfed  farmeress 
pointing  her  finger  at  a  politician  o'f  Jack  Fal- 
staff  girth  and  shrilling: 

"Say!  You!  It  ain't  no  use  you  a-talkin',  an' 
a-talkin',  an'  a-talkin'.  You  ain't  never  done 
nothin'  for  Us ;  an*  you  never  will." 

And  through  the  stump-speeches  of  a  limber- 
tongued  Irish  agitatress;  "We  must  raise  more 
hell ;  and  less  corn." 

New  politics  taught  organization.  Com- 
munity ideas  strengthened.  Sons  and  daughters 
of  Grangers  and  Allied  Farmers  who,  in  in- 
fancy, had  learned  lessons  of  co-operation,  ac- 
celerated social  unifying.  Reaction  from  the 


234  EARLIER  DAYS  AT 

overmastering  solitariness  of  the  Anglo-Saxon 
pioneers — a  people,  we  must  repeat,  ill  at  bend- 
ing to  concerted  action,  overwhelming  individ- 
ualists earnestly  seeking  the  right  to  life,  lib- 
erty and  the  pursuit  of  happiness  of  our  fore- 
parents;  blotting  out  opportunism,  expediency, 
puny  practicality  lying  at  hand;  dreamers,  yet 
swift  and  strong  to  dare  and  do — reaction  was 
a  rising  tide. 

In  the  university  many  facts  bore  witness  to 
the  changing  spirit.  Loss  of  faith  in  the  indi- 
vidual's spontaneously  constructive  exercise  was 
one — loss  of  fervor  for  "hiking"  along  country- 
roads  in  delight  of  fresh  air  and  buoyant  body, 
opening  thoughts  to  solitary  horizons,  assim- 
ilating lore  learned  indoors  while  resting  under 
a  hedge  or  branches  of  an  oak;  trudging,  for  in- 
stance, towards  an  oval  mound  stretching  across 
the  south-east  prairie,  virid  with  the  many 
greens  of  tree  and  field  and  veiled  in  seductive 
sapphire  haze ;  or  trending  north-west  to  a  tiny 
lake  upon  whose  languid  waters  chinquapins 
rustled,  vivacious  teal  sallied  and  wood-ducks 
preened  their  velvet  feathers. 

The  impossible  happened.  At  an  institution 
not  fifty  years  founded  by  men  and  women  who 
had  gloried  in  loneliness  of  soul,  and  what  they 
were  able  to  accomplish  through  solitary 


THE   UNIVERSITY  OF   KANSAS  235 

thought;  in  a  state  settled  and  developed  by 
spiritual  strength  and  independence  of  the  in- 
dividual, sports,  ritualized,  supervised  by  a 
trained  expert  called  coach,  worked  imperialis- 
tic way.  Before  sons  and  daughters  of  farmers 
who  drove  their  own  plough  horses,  a  few  some- 
times over-developed  youths,  to  whom  the  coach 
gave  his  special  attention,  competed  with 
strangers  of  identical  experience ;  while  the  ma- 
jority, athletes  by  proxy,  now  and  then  a  pastry 
skin  among  them,  sat  hammering  bleachers  and 
yelling.  The  scene  lacked  little  for  recalling,  to 
thinking  minds,  how  certain  dancers  do  the 
dancing  of  orientals,  degenerated,  who,  them- 
selves, recline  on  cushions. 

Then,  too,  in  this  institution  of  greatest  aspi- 
rations of  the  human  spirit,  numbers  increased 
of  those  spending  no  little  tinre  in  furbishing  col- 
lege politics,  getting  out  student  publications, 
setting  on  foot  dances  and  theatricals,  in  fact  en- 
gaging so  continuously™  *' business,"  and  "soci- 
ety," that  the  on-looker  sometimes  wondered  if 
they  really  went  tothe  university  to  study.  These 
absurdities  of  theirs  may  have  been  youngsters' 
attempts  to  act  the  role  of  "live-wires;"  imitate 
someone  they  admired  in  their  pre-academic  life. 
But  the  pity  of  the  waste! — pity  that  commer- 
cialism should  negate  a  university's  spiritual 


236  BABUEE  DAYS  AT 

authority ! — pity  that  overseeing  wisdom  should 
not  prevent  division  of  attention  and  demand 
effort  to  the  limit  of  the  students'  abilities! 
Even  among  boys  and  girls  with  the  soundness 
of  an  agricultural  democracy  behind  them  such 
excesses  must  bring  lower  scholarship  and  in- 
ferior standards  in  their  train. 

Clearer  vision  of  ourselves  we  sometimes 
gain  if  we  turn  to  others'  environment : — Oxford 
and  Cambridge  Universities  have  for  centuries 
lifted  the  life  of  England,  rather  of  all  Britain 
and  her  Colonies,  through  unbending  devotion 
to  their  ideals  of  humanity;  through  their  in- 
fluence upon  students  carrying  their  spiritual 
seed  to  the  people.  A  democratic  university  may 
lose  this  great  cleansing  and  elevating  influence, 
in  part,  if,  stooping  to  subserve  passing  petti- 
ness, it  leaves  unexalted  its  own  native  rights. 


VIII. 

With  an  organizing  of  estimates  in  Kansas- 
increase  of  synthetic  community-thinking  which 
moves  in  emotionalized  mass  formation  and  dis- 
claims critical,  analytical  judgment  (declaring, 
as  one  time  it  did,  the  personal  point  of  view 
" bilious") — with  the  socializing  of  estimates  of 


THE  TJNIVEESITY  OF  KANSAS  237 

the  last  decades  of  the  nineteenth  century,  there 
also  grew  in  the  state  abnormal  regard  for 
"popularity." 

What  one  generation  will  struggle  for  the 
next  is  apt  to  treat  with  neglect.  That  is,  gen- 
erations more  easily  placed  are  prone  to  cast 
aside  what  their  parents  with  abnegation  won. 
The  youngsters  strike  out  seeking  the  opposite. 
"Natural  resilience ;"  you  suggest ;  "philosophic 
search  for  the  novelty  of  change  after  finding 
the  prevailing  order's  defects.  Every  age  differs 
from  the  one  which  precedes  it;  a  classic  age 
swings  to  a  romantic." 

We  have  seen  certain  reactions  from  the 
apostolic  aloofness  of  mind  and  aloofness  of  ac- 
tion that  distinguished  early  Kansas  idealists — 
products,  for  clarity  we  repeat,  of  those  Puritan 
teachings  which  through  generations  declared 
the  world's  well-being,  its  moral  government  in 
fact,  to  lie  with  each  act  of  each  man,  woman  and 
child.  Bowing  to  "popularity"  witnessed  an- 
other reaction. 

Shrines  to  the  evanishing  god  rose  on  many 
house-hearths.  Uncounted  victims  Wed  upon 
his  altars.  Not  to  be  "popular"  became  exceed- 
ingly unpopular.  Indeed,  to  cast  the  reflection 
of  "unpopular"  on  a  person  was  notwfcolly  unlike 
the  old  imputations  of  wizardry  and  witchery, 


233  EARLIER  DATS  AT 

in  that  such  reflections  set  the  object  a  target 
for  scoffs.  The  truth  that  only  a  fool  sticks  to 
hearsay,  nur  ein  Narr  bleibt  bei  ein  Red',  fell 
forgotten. 

The  craze  affected  even  the  fancied  exalta- 
tions and  serenities  of  academic  life.  As  minds 
ran,  report  about  a  member  of  the  faculty  turned 
on  whether  he  was  "  popular" — no  matter  if  he 
merely  pursued  an  aggressive  self-advertise- 
ment, or  if  he  adapted  himself  to  shifting  opin- 
ions and  watched  to  seize  opportunity,  or  lack- 
ing personal  convictions  avoided  the  friction 
that  rises  from  loyalty  to  fundamental  princi- 
ples. Whether  "  popular"  among  students,  or 
their  elders,  it  was  not  necessary  to  explain ;  the 
use  of  the  word,  indefinite  but  a  booster,  cast 
a  spell. 

A  man  may  be  popular  for  the  reason  Socrates 
was  popular  with  young  men  of  Athens — be- 
cause warming  his  heart  and  piloting  his  effort 
works  the  forward-looking,  insistent  conscience 
of  the  race ;  because  he  loses  the  individual  and 
utters  the  race  voice.  Then,  again,  he  may  be 
popular  for  the  reason  a  street-corner  faker  who 
gives  out  lollipops  is  popular;  or  for  the  reason 
movies  are  popular. 

In  Kansas  "popular"  became  a  cabalistic, 
fairly  hypnotizing  word,  we  say.  That  is  one 


THE   UNIVERSITY   OP   KANSAS  239 

of  the  dangers  constantly  threatening  a  de- 
mocracy's Thinking  Shop— danger  lest  intellec- 
tual independence  is  not  safeguarded;  danger 
lest  policy  in  following  gusts  of  opinion  pay  bet- 
ter than  principle;  danger  lest  smooth,  smug 
mediocrity  of  a  handful  of  politicians  dominate ; 
danger  lest,  timid  as  a  hare  at  the  onset  of  those 
seeking  his  job,  a  professor — of  all  men  he  who 
has  devoted  himself  to  the  communication  of 
truth ;  danger  lest  he  suppress  his  views  to  main- 
tain a  colorless  neutrality  and  give  no  point  of 
attack.  The  character  of  a  body  rarely  rises 
above  the  average  of  the  individuals  who  form 
that  body. 

Nowadays  fashion  among  university  teachers 
is  to  be  wide-awake  men ;  half  man  of  the  busi- 
ness world  with  an  eye  on  the  practical,  half 
theorist ;  of  the  type  of  the  engineer.  Of  neces- 
sity university  pundits  are  practical  in  a  de- 
gree. But  they  are  identified  with  ideas;  they 
are  public  employees,  and,  if  loyal  to  their  duty 
of  the  communication  of  truth,  they  must  dis- 
cuss issues  affecting  all  peoples  of  the  earth. 
They  should  be  leaders.  Contentedly  to  in- 
terpret crudest  ideas  of  a  populace,  to  minimize 
the  spiritual  side  of  human  life  and  rob  life  of 
lofty  ideals,  is  an  ignoble  deed  and  must  end  in 
vulgarizing  a  university,  in  making  Shop  pre- 


240  EARLIER  DAYS  AT 

dominate  Thinking.  Perhaps  what  James  Rus- 
sell Lowell  said  of  poets  is  true  of  professors ; 
"The  reputation  of  a  poet  who  has  a  high  idea 
of  his  vocation,  is  resolved  to  he  true  to  that 
vocation,  and  hates  humhug,  must  be  small  in 
his  generation." 

Worshipers  of  popularity  ultimately  cheapen 
to  commonplace  and  lack  the  distinction  of 
premiership. 


IX. 


Slogans  serve  weakness  as  well  as  strength  in 
a  democracy.  Daily  cares,  daily  needs,  forbid 
our  ubiquitous  Master  and  Mistress  Everybody 
from  thinking  out  each  matter  put  before  them 
for  consideration  and  action.  But  a  thought,  a 
truth,  compressed  into  a  gathering  cry,  is  seeded 
among  the  people.  Then  does  it  motivate  the 
mass. 

So  with  other  catch-words.  They  pass  from 
mouth  to  mouth  and  lead  to  deeds,  and  some- 
times no  little  work  before  developing  into  a 
truth  or  falling  from  corrupting  falsehood  at 
their  core.  How  long  they  may  need  to  find 
verity  depends  upon  a  people's  earnestness  and 
intelligence.  We  are  still  in  that  stage  of  de- 


THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   KANSAS  241 

velopment  when  a  lie  may  run  the  whole  world 
round  while  Truth  is  putting  on  her  boots. 

So  it  is  distortions  creep  into  history; 
histories  great,  histories  small.  Lovers  of 
verity,  workers  for  verity,  all  see  that.  A  thing 
is  done,  for  instance,  you  plant  a  young  apple- 
tree.  You  say,  "I  am  digging  for  its  founda- 
tion, planting  the  tree  in  what  folks  say  is  a 
remote,  soilless,  unprofitable  ground.  But  the 
sapling  is  of  right  grain  and  girth,  and  I  have 
faith  that  weak  as  it  is,  it  will,  by  the  hand  of 
God,  grow  to  maturity,  cheer  men  with  its  beauty 
and  further  men  with  its  fruits." 

The  tree  flourishes. 

Later  comers  on  the  earth,  seeing  its  ample 
bowery  and  far-reaching  aid  to  man,  which  in 
the  planting  were  clear  to  long-visioned  souls 
only — later  comers  seeing  the  beauty  of  its 
shade,  and  value  to  the  state  of  its  harvest, 
bunch  hearsays  and  ascribe  the  humane  vision 
and  severe  labor  of  the  digging  and  planting  to 
other  than  you,  who  remembered  the  thirteenth 
chapter  of  Luke  and  its  mustard  seed,  "which  a 
man  took  and  cast  into  his  garden,  and  it  grew 
and  waxed  a  great  tree;  and  fowls  of  the  air 
lodged  in  its  branches." 

The  school  of  law  had  a  real  history  like  this 
of  your  hypothetical  apple-tree.  Later  gener- 


242  EABLIEB  DAYS  AT 

ations  fell  into  the  fallacy — a  fallacy  for  the 
most  part  of  the  ignorant  and  shallow-minded — 
of  taking  a  name  familiar  to  their  ears  and 
round  it  grouping  tales  of  affairs  grown  large 
and  benefaetive.  Philologists  call  such  a  proc- 
ess myth-making,  and  tell  us  that  fancy  plays 
in  building  a  larger  part  than  fact.  Pity  of  it  is 
that  the  myth-making  not  only  sets  forth  an 
untruth,  but  destroys  what  Solomon  called  "an 
understanding  heart,"  love  of  justice  and  truth ; 
ability  to  discriminate  between  truth  and  false- 
hood. *  *  Nobody  can  live  long,"  wrote  Dr.  John- 
son, "  without  knowing  that  falsehoods  of  con- 
venience or  vanity,  falsehoods  from  which  no 
evil  immediately  ensues,  except  the  general  deg- 
radation of  human  testimony,  are  very  lightly 
uttered,  and  once  uttered  are  sullenly  sup- 
ported." 

Solicitude  for  the  foundation  of  the  school 
of  law  led  Judge  Stephens  through  years  to 
press  forward  needs  of  the  state  and  the  uni- 
versity. The  past  is  mother  of  the  future,  and 
he  was  ever  endeavoring  to  make  experiences  of 
the  past  build  riches  for  the  time  to  come.  He 
believed  every  American  should  know  general 
principles  of  law,  that  American  citizens,  ap- 
proaching manhood  and  womanhood,  should 
know  that  the  government  of  their  country  is  a 


THE   UNIVEBSITY   OP   KANSAS  243 

Government  of  Law,  that  "the  master  they  own 
is  law,"  as  an  ancient  Greek  said  of  his  country- 
men. Such  knowledge  would  instil  veneration 
for  law,  guard  against  violations  of  law,  and 
show  that  enforcement  of  the  law  rests  mainly 
with  the  people  themselves.  Fundamental  ideas 
of  law  a  school  of  law  should  offer  every  stu- 
dent ;  in  addition  to  its  peculiar  learning  for  its 
own  students. 

And  consciousness  that  he  could  receive  no 
personal  benefit  from  the  founding,  knowledge 
that  his  connection  with  the  school  could  be  no 
other  than  that  of  urger  and  adviser  of  its  in- 
ception, permitted  him  an  expansive  zeal  and 
enthusiasm  in  furthering  his  ideas,  and  served 
to  protect  him  from  charge  of  self-seeking — an 
imputation  rising  easily  in  a  commonwealth 
where  conditions  are  not  yet  stereotyped,  in  a 
state  to  which  later  men  have  gone  because  they 
believed  competition  lighter  there  than  in  their 
old  home  and  "getting  on"  easier,  acid  jealousy 
eating  its  way  to  a  greater  role  in  life  there  than 
in  less  fluid  conditions. 

Finally,  in  November,  1878,  after  advising 
with  the  administrative  board,  and  after  refus- 
ing their  offer  of  deanship,  Judge  Stephens  had 
the  gratification  of  opening  "the  law  depart- 
ment" for  which  he  had  through  years  labored. 


244  EABUER  DAYS  AT 

"The  state  owes  to  itself  to  adopt  that  policy 
which  shall  most  advance  the  welfare  of  its  in- 
habitants," he  said  in  his  address  that  evening. 
*' Knowledge  of  the  law  makes  better  citizens, 
more  moral,  more  honest. . .  .to  love  justice  and 
hate  iniquity  the  more."  "It  becomes  of  great- 
est importance  that  the  educational  institutions 
of  our  state.  .  .educate  the  people  in  knowledge 
of  the  law,  not  necessarily  to  make  practising 
lawyers  but  to  protect  the  state  itself  .  .  .  that 
truth  may  prevail  in  the  state's  laws,  and  jus- 
tice increase  and  dwell  among  the  people." 

Processes  of  evolution  are  slow,  we  have  con- 
stantly to  tell  ourselves.  Wherever  men  congre- 
gate, and  human  life  is  lived,  Bodenstedt's  lines 
keep  true ; 

"Wiho  thinks  the  truth, 

Must  hold  the  bridle  in  his  hand; 

Who  writes  the  truth, 

Must  ready  in  the  stirrup  stand; 

Who  speaks  the  truth, 

Must  have  on  wings  to  flee  the  land."* 

*In  truth  to  Bodenstedt  let  us  quote  his  idiomatic  German : 

Wer  die  Wahrheit  denkt, 

Muss  sein  Pferd  am  Ziigel  haben; 

Wer  die  Wahrheit  schreibt, 

Muss  scin  Fuss  im  Bugel  halcn; 

Wer  fie  aber  spricht, 

Must  statt  Fusse  Flugel  halcn. 


THE  T7NIVEBSITY   OF   KANSAS  245 

But  returns  do  hearten  toilers  for  justice. 

The  foundation  of  the  university  of  a  demo- 
cratic commonwealth  is  primarily  to  train  men 
and  women  to  living  for  things  of  the  spirit — 
to  preserve  and  inculcate  all  ancient  truth  and 
further  all  modern,  to  guide  all  people,  of  intel- 
lectual impulse  enough  to  comprehend  it,  in 
the  way  of  truth.  Truth  is  the  core  of  the  uni- 
versity's strength  in  all  its  functions,  all  its 
schools.  Only  through  unfailingly  serving  truth 
can  the  university  lead  to  the  fulness  of  life 
truth  hrings. 

"To  love  the  truth,  to  wish  to  know  it,  to 
believe  in  it,  to  work,  if  possible,  to  discover  it ; 
to  dare  to  look  it  in  the  face,  to  swear  never  to 
falsify,  dimmish,  or  add  to  it,  even  in  view  of 
an  apparently  higher  interest,  for  no  really 
higher  interest  can  possibly  exist,"  is  as  true 
for  the  university  of  a  democracy  in  America, 
and  at  all  times,  as  when  in  such  sentences, 
Gaston  Paris  pleaded  for  truth's  universality 
before  the  French  Academy. 

"For  the  truth,  it  endure th;  and  is  always 
strong,"  quoth  Zorobabel  of  old,  "it  liveth  and 
conquereth  for  evermore." 


246  EARLIER  DAYS  AT 

X. 

To  see  life  objectively  in  Kansas  is  difficult. 
Absorbed  in  living  it,  you  do  not  see  the  woods 
for  the  trees.  In  older  communities  where  life 
is  more  in  perspective,  caste,  artificiality,  re- 
stricted opportunity,  conditions  are  easier  to 
pronounce  upon ;  manners,  habits,  usages,  forms 
matured  and  established  give  a  background  and 
make  the  sketching  in  of  characters  easier.  In 
Kansas  you  are  confronted  and  confused  by 
striking  individualisms  or  socialisms.  And  each 
and  every  is  busy.  A  Kansas  child  it  was  who 
caught  up  a  popular  hymn  and  sang: 

"There'H   be    humpin    to   do ; 
If  we  all  get  to  heaven, 
There'll  be  humpin  to  do." 

So  in  a  utilitarian,  alfalfa-enfolded  university 
whose  support  has  been  through  apportions  by 
a  biennial  legislature,  life  can  not  be  dull  or 
without  ideals.  Life  can  not  be  dull  or  with- 
out ideals  in  any  democracy,  if  its  people 
have  real  life,  real  liberty  and  pursuit  of  real 
happiness  in  their  hearts.  And  students  of  this 
university  are  democrats  of  democrats.  An  arid 
formalist  might  merely  denominate  them  "good 
mixers;"  a  Henry  James  say,  "superabundant, 


THE   UNIVEESITY   OF   KANSAS  247 

promiscuous  democrats,  without  love  of  selec- 
tion." Yet  their  instinct  for  the  right  probably 
tells  them  that  the  completest  aristocrat  is  the 
completest  democrat,  and  that  this  spiritual  law 
holds  in  Kansas,  as  elsewhere ;  that  it  is  only  the 
self -doubting  democrat  who  is  not  an  aristocrat, 
and  only  the  self -doubting  aristocrat  who  is  not 
a  democrat. 

Energetic  these  students  ever  have  been,  self- 
reliant  to  an  amazing  degree.  Productive  labor 
in  which  many  of  them  engage,  even  in  early 
youth,  has  given  them  well-trained  senses  and 
personal  initiative.  Then,  a  climate  of  the  in- 
tensity of  theirs  must  breed  the  adventurous. 
Their  radiant  strength,  both  of  soul  and  body 
I  would  bear  witness  to,  as  I  endeavored  in  The 
University  of  Hesperus.  Added  testimony  a 
veteran  lately  gave  me — how  his  marvellous 
physical  vigor,  gained  in  youth  on  a  Kansas 
farm,  earned  money  to  take  him  through  the 
academic  course;  and  yet  now  sad  poverty 
proved  when  midnight  carriages  rolled  by  bear- 
ing his  classmates  from  dancing  parties,  while 
he  had  spent  the  evening  studying  in  his  attic, 
and — standing  by  an  April  garden  he  spoke — 
"without  any  daffodil" 

They  breathe  deep,  these  students,  in  a  broad- 
chested  way.  Commonly  they  are  low-voiced. 


248  EARLIER  DAYS  AT 

Their  language  a  sturdy  vernacular,  English 
not  debased  by  idioms  from  foreign  tongues. 

If  they  produce,  or  when  they  produce,  a  liter- 
ature— for  it  is  difficult  to  think  a  people,  de- 
veloping from  such  forebears,  in  so  distinctive 
a  climate,  should  be  sterile — their  literature  will 
have  universality,  largeness  of  appeal.  They 
will  prove  the  truth  of  George  Sand's  saying, 
"God  reveals  himself  more  and  more  to 
poets  of  the  people  and  philosophers  of  the 
people." 

A  literature  which  will  attract  by  its  elemental 
simplicity,  I  venture  to  predict.  It  will  not  de- 
light in  the  petty,  superficial ;  in  wordy  analyses ; 
in  rhetorical  tricks,  cult  of  style  for  style's  sake ; 
in  virtuosity,  financial  elegance  of  manner  made 
ridiculous  by  narrow  spiritual  range.  Nor  will 
it  be  bald,  or  barren.  Springing  in  that  en- 
vironment it  will  have  intensity  of  feeling — tha^ 
one  generator  of  thought  which  is  real  thought — 
and  unswerving  fidelity  to  the  view  of  life  of 
its  people.  It  will  be  natural,  independent,  and 
far  from  insincerity  and  pretence. 

Love  of  Kansas — its  lustrous  sunlight  and 
star-sown  night-skies,  its  temperamental  storms, 
the  fountains  and  flora  of  its  rolling  earth — ia 
born  in  its  people,  warms  their  blood,  knits 
their  bone,  strengthens  their  muscle  and  height- 


THE   UNIVEBSITY   OF   KANSAS  249 

ens  their  spirit  to  homage.  Love  of  social  test 
and  experiment,  also.  They  have  their  own 
flair.  "Kansas  folks,"  said  doughboys,  return- 
ing from  France  in  1919,  to  workers  of  the  Kan- 
sas Welcome  Association  in  New  York,  "Kansas 
folks  are  home.  They  understand ;  nohody  else 
does."  Emotions  like  these,  seeking  to  express 
themselves  through  the  medium  of  language, 
give  a  state  its  own  individual  literature. 

The  speech  of  these  students  is  English,  I 
say,  living  speech,  now  and  then  strengthened 
by  colloquialisms  (a  trace  even  of  the  archaism 
of  the  double  negative)  inherited  from  some 
county  of  England,  or  Scotland,  or  Ireland; 
racial  crystals  not  yet  shamed  out  of  use  by 
standardizing  teachers  and  newspaper-reading. 
In  other  words  the  tang  of  home-spun  phrase 
is  in  their  tongue  and  has  thus  far  escaped 
obliteration. 

"He  pronounced  the  letter  R  (litera  canina) 
very  hard,"  said  John  Aubrey  of  John  Milton, 
"a  certaine  signe  of  a  satyricall  witt." 

Students  of  the  university  pronounce  the 
litera  canina  very  hard;  but  it  is  not  true  that 
they  have  a  satirical  wit.  Satire  must  have  an- 
other horizon  than  the  one  in  view.  Absorbed  in 
the  juncture  of  their  own  heaven  and  earth,  they 
are  ardent,  positive,  constructive,  optimistic, 


250  EARLIER  DATS  AT 

centered  on  what  they  are  undertaking,  thinking 
with  their  hearts  as  well  as  their  heads. 

The  look  of  their  eyes  I  used  often  to  wonder 
at.  And,  after  years,  I  heard  that  others  won- 
dered, too ;  Les  gargons  ont  quelque  chose  devant 
les  yeux  que  nous  autres  nous  ne  connaissons 
pas,  said  a  French  surgeon  in  the  summer  of 
1918,  after  visiting  hoys  like  these  of  Kansas 
lying  wounded  in  his  hospital  in  Paris.  Je  ne 
sais  pas  si  c'est  Dieu,  ou  le  President  Wilson, 
ou  la  doctrine  Monroe,  mais  c'est  un  ideal  comme 
jamais  je  n'  ai  vu  ma  longue  vie. 

Life  is  to  them  an  epic  delight — broad  pic- 
tures, childlike  enthusiasms  and  faith  in  their 
deed.  They  are  single-hearted  utilitarians  who 
have  seized  their  life-career-motive,  what  youth 
and  a  striking  readiness  to  measure  practical 
values  make  plain  is  within  their  grasp. 

Wer  sein  selbst  Meister  ist  und  sich  'beherrscUen  kann, 
Dem  ist  die  weite  Welt  und  alles  unterthan. 

If  any  among  them  fail,  it  is  doubtless  from 
lack  of  singleness  of  purpose. 

People  of  the  heroic  age  of  Kansas  bequeathed 
the  university  to  those  later  forming  the  body- 
politic,  and  declared  the  institution  necessary  to 
the  spirit  of  their  commonwealth.  They  had 


THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   KANSAS  251 

settled  on  the  land  called  Kansas  delighting  with 
the  delight  of  Anglo-Saxons  in  state-building. 
Hostilities  rose ;  hostilities  defying  enumeration, 
defying  definition  in  the  vastness  of  their  mean- 
ing to  our  nation's  life.  But  those  early  people 
built  on — built  doggedly  because,  fired  with  a 
great  imagination,  they  knew  they  built  forever. 
"Old  and  early  habits  of  conservative  obedi- 
ence to  ...  the  laws  under  which  they  grew  up 
and  found  both  liberty  and  protection  still  cling 
to  them,"  wrote  a  visitor  among  them  in  the 
winter  of  1855-56.  "Immigrants  of  so  high  an 
order  in  cultivation,  natural  ability,  or  energetic 
foresight  and  calculation,  never  before  planted 
themselves  as  the  nucleus  of  a  new  State." 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  U8flARY 


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